


With Magic Soaking My Spine

by Biromantic_Nerd



Series: Honey, There Is No Right Way [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Don't Post To Another Site, Don't copy to another site, Friendship, Gen, Gwaine thinks Arthur has magic, Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, Magic Revealed, Merlin goes along with it because he's a disaster, Misunderstandings, Post-Episode: s03e08 The Eye of the Phoenix, meanwhile Arthur thinks Gwaine is the one with magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: "Don't you think, should Arthur have magic, should ArthurbeMagic, that we ought to support him?" Gwaine asked quietly, his voice low and gaze serious.Merlin let out a high pitched and bird-like noise in response.(Or the one where Grettir was more vague and so there's much confusion in who is Courage, who is Strength, and who is Magic. But especially that last one.)
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Honey, There Is No Right Way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687465
Comments: 161
Kudos: 1146
Collections: Series that I want to read once they are complete, why sleep when you can read?





	1. "Would things be easier if there was a right way?"

**Author's Note:**

> vast majority is in Merlin's POV with the occasional changing POV
> 
> no pairings in this except for a quick mention of Gwen having been into Lancelot; also Merlin's a Disaster Bi and sometimes it shows in his POV. But no onscreen romance at all, just a bunch of well meaning idiots. 
> 
> (Listen Merlin is very bi, yes, that's true. And he thinks about how handsome Lancelot is many times, that is also true. But their friendship and physical affection is platonic in this story because you can think someone is handsome and still have a cuddle without it being romantic.)
> 
> Timeline on this is very vague. It starts off very episode based in the beginning but quickly resumes later on after some months have passed. If I had to pin it down, I suppose it'd be a bit of a strange combination of Season 3 and 4, except that Lancelot lives and the Round Table knights are in Camelot before Uther dies. In any case, at the beginning of this there's references to Arthur being prince and then later on in the story it references him being king.

Arthur cautiously approached the bridge and its keeper and eyed the short man warily as he slowed his steps to a halt. It wasn't certain or not if this man was a foe but Arthur wasn't going to be taken off guard nor would he charge in recklessly.

"Ah, so you've arrived," The bridge keeper said, as if he had been expecting Arthur and Arthur had kept him waiting.

Arthur scoffed automatically at the tone.

"I've been expecting you three for some time now," The man continued, and Arthur deliberately stretched his jaw in order to avoid scoffing yet again or calling out the man on what _clearly_ were lies.

"I don't see how," Arthur said finally. "None should be expecting me. And - hang on." Something occurred to him. "Did you say ' _three?_ '"

The man's eyes flicked up to, strangely, Arthur's wrist. "Yes, you don't see many things, I'm sure. That's quite a bracelet you've got."

Arthur had the distinct feeling of being mocked but was uncertain as to how that was so. He took a deep breath. "Yes, it was a gift from a dear friend. Now what did you mean by 'three?'" He asked calmly, unwilling to be provoked. If it weren't for the location, Arthur might have thought the man's preoccupation with Morgana's bracelet as indication he was a highway man. But certainly the Perilous Lands weren't a fortuitous location to rob people since none dared to enter such a hostile place.

The man raised his eyebrows. "A dear friend? Hmm... As for the three, I refer to Courage, Strength, and Magic, of course."

"Of course," Arthur scoffed. "Right."

"All three are needed for your journey," The bridge keeper said.

Arthur very much doubted that. "Well, this has been a lovely chat, but I need to going now in way of this bridge."

The man stepped aside. Arthur almost couldn't believe it to be that easy."I bid good luck to Courage, Strength, and Magic. May you three be successful in this quest." The man called after to him. And, oddly, Arthur thought for a moment that he was referring to people. Which was absolutely ludicrous. There was only Arthur here after all - and _certainly_ there was no one named Courage, Strength, or Magic. What terrible names to have been given, Arthur thought in amusement but he quickly put it from his mind.

Because his thoughts were on his quest. He and he alone would find the Fisher King's Trident and bring it back to prove his worthiness as Camelot's heir, strange words from a bridge keeper or no.

Of course, he soon discovered that he wasn't _actually_ alone after all because Merlin was an _idiot_.

* * *

Gwaine turned the corner and immediately drew his sword upon finding Merlin not alone. He'd _barely_ been behind Merlin - had been on the lookout to protect him from those creatures - and hadn't expected him to run into a _person,_ which was his mistake. "Who are you?" Except, Gwaine sword suddenly was not a sword at all. He stared, baffled, at where his sword had been and now in its place was a bouquet. Stunned, it took him a moment to understand the implications; the man before them was a magic user.

"The trio is now complete: Courage, Strength, and Magic - all arrived." The man sounded quite pleased.

Next to him Merlin startled, and Gwaine gripped the flowers in his fist more tightly, wishing that his sword had _remained_ a sword instead of having been transformed.

"At least we know Arthur's made it here." Merlin said and aimed a relieved smile at Gwaine, although there was still some nervousness that lingered in his eyes. Which was true if the man before them was to be believed. And then Gwaine paused. Because, if the man was indeed meant to be believed, he had called the three of them by peculiar titles. Courage. Strength. Magic.

Three titles for the three of them. It was simple math there. One for each then. And it could be assumed that the title was suited for each person. That Gwaine, Merlin, and Arthur could be titled so easily as Courage, Strength, and Magic because those were the qualities that defined them. Representations of who they were and their personalities condensed into one word titles. That who they were could be summarized into one word meant that that word - it must be the epitome of themselves, the most far-reaching title to describe them.

Which would explain Merlin's nerves. Because Courage and Strength? Flattering and honorable. _Magic_ however? To someone who lived in Camelot, that must have been startling to hear, to say the least.

And so Gwaine knew.

Because Gwaine eyed Merlin and immediately _knew_ that he was intended to be Courage. It made sense after all. Everything about Merlin was brave, brave in so many ways Gwaine had always admired. From his fearlessness of being vulnerable - " _People get sick of me too quickly." **"I didn't."** \- _to his bravery even in the face of quests that were supposed to be befitting of royalty alone and not a peasant manservant with no weapon or armor. Merlin was a force, dauntless, that seemed to never waiver, to never succumb to any fear. Sometimes Gwaine wondered whether or not Merlin even thought to have fear in the first place. Sometimes he thought Merlin to be _so good_ that his goodness came first and his actions second - that maybe he wasn't led by his bravery, that it was an effect of who we was. Like how he hadn't investigated those two knights he found suspicious because he was brave; no, he investigated them because it was the right thing to do and if it took bravery to do so, then brave Merlin would be.

If it were up to Gwaine to decide on a word that condensed the epitome of Merlin - one word, just one - it would be _good_. But he could easily see the bridge keeper's point of view. Merlin's bravery was something that Gwaine thought obvious.

Likewise, Gwaine thought the moniker of Strength obvious in whom it referred to: himself.

Which left Magic.

(Which left Arthur.)

Gwaine sighed. "Can't do things by halves, can you?" He muttered. And didn't quite know whether the question was directed to Merlin, Arthur, or himself.

Except there wasn't much of a difference between knowing now and before when he had not known at all. Knowing didn't absolve his banishment. And so, after Merlin and were safe and they approached Camelot's border, he took off and took that knowledge with him as he went. 

Of course he didn't predict that Arthur would rule as Regent while Uther recovered from - something, Gwaine wasn't quite sure what. But in any case, Gwaine was back at Camelot and a knight at that. Uther would turn over in his grave if he knew that Arthur had knighted _commoners_ \- but Uther wasn't dead yet, so. Couldn't have everything go his way, Gwaine supposed. 

* * *

"You _can_ visit me without being injured, you know." Merlin said as he wrapped poultice and bandages on Gwaine's wounded arm.

"I visit you all the time!" Gwaine argued merrily, not looking too worse for the wear despite having been injured while encountering bandits during a patrol outside of the citadel.

The merriment of his friend was easily caught and kindled his own merriment. "I suppose that's true."

"Really, isn't it you who never visits me?" Gwaine pointed out. Merlin opened his mouth to argue but found Gwaine to be right.

"I don't even know where you're staying," Merlin said and then frowned as he realized how true the statement to be. "Where _are_ you staying?"

"I've been given a knight's quarters." Gwaine answered. "It's, uh - smaller than some of the nobles, but it's plenty." His mouth thinned as he thought it over, and Merlin could see both his opinions of his gratefulness and the unfairness of it in the line of his mouth. Grateful to be housed, indignant that Uther, as soon as he had regained awareness and the throne, had ensured the differential treatment of the noble and common knights. "Do you know where that one corridor with the knight armor that's next to the large painting of the man who looks to be suffering - suffering probably from some sort of embarrassment?"

Merlin laughed. "What? No! No, I haven't!"

Gwaine grinned. "You haven't seen it? The portrait is about this size," He held up his hands spaced far apart, "And the man looks like he just shat himself while in Court and proposing a tax increase or something. I'm not kidding, Merlin. He looks like he's just discovered that he's been caught out at something - like the painter accused him of, say, marrying a troll perhaps."

"You've heard about that?" Merlin laughed, delighted. It was surprising since Uther had decreed none to speak of it on penalty of death.

"Merlin, mate, who _hasn't?_ Uther married an actual troll; it was news in every kingdom. I've heard a few ballads on the subject that were quite amusing. Remind me to sing them for you sometime."

"Really?" That was a hilarious thought. "Wait, you can sing?" Merlin asked curiously as he tied off the last of the bandage.

His friend blinked. "Everyone can sing."

"No they can't."

"Merlin," Gwaine raised his eyebrows. "Everyone can sing."

"Not well," He pointed out reasonably.

"I never said everyone can sing _well_." Gwaine grinned.

"Can you?"

Gwaine shrugged, exuding cockiness. "I suppose I'll let you be the judge of that, eh?"

Merlin laughed. "Alright, I'll hold you to it. In the mean time, take care of your arm. Come back if it gets any worse by tonight - or come back if this doesn't show any sign of improving your pain, and I'll have whipped up a pain tincture by then. And either way, come back tomorrow morning after you've bathed - and, yes, you _must_ bathe, physician's orders - and I'll rebandage it for you." It shouldn't worsen because Merlin had placed a mild enchantment on the poultice that should help with healing as well as the pain; however, Merlin wasn't terribly skilled at healing magic, and he couldn't be certain that it would work since sometimes it did, while other times it just... didn't. Although he never could figure out why, exactly, that was. "Actually, you know what? I think Gaius and I have some willow bark around here something, I can make you tea; it'll help alleviate the pain. Let me just - " Merlin stood, trying to quickly sort through the glass jars and bottles of dried herbs and flowers.

Gwaine stood as well. "It's alright, Merlin, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I can ask him where it is when he comes back, he shouldn't be long?" Merlin asked and looked up from examining the jar in his hand of what turned out to be crushed anise and not willow bark. Gwaine smiled, and Merlin nodded, accepting his answer. "See you tomorrow then."

"Bright and early," Gwaine promised and then turned to leave Gaius' chambers. Merlin resumed his search for the willow bark that he _knew_ was here _somewhere_.

"Merlin," Gwaine called and Merlin turned. "Hmm?"

"Do you ever think about back when we were helping Arthur in the Perilous Lands?"

Merlin frowned and studied his friend's expression carefully. That had been some time ago, and it wasn't really like Gwaine - who liked to live in the moment - to reminiscence. But Gwaine's visage was neutral, and Merlin couldn't read much from his expression or body language, couldn't discern what on Earth this was about. "I suppose? Yes."

Gwaine nodded slowly. "You ever think," He said languidly, "About what that man on the bridge said?" Merlin inhaled sharply and tried not to visibly react beyond that. But it was too late. Gwaine nodded again, keen eyes easily having spotted the reaction. "I thought so." Merlin waited, heart and breath caught in his throat, for Gwaine to continue. For him to connect what the man on the bridge had said to stupid, sometimes working sometimes not working magical poultices. "Merlin, you always do the right thing."

"Not always." Merlin chuckled sadly. He appreciated that Gwaine led up to it with that, that he seemed to be weighing his own good opinion of Merlin against the evidence against him. But the suspense of it was almost terrible in its own.

"Always," Gwaine corrected with a quiet intensity. "And so I was wondering..."

Why Merlin had magic, Merlin thought dismally. And tried to brace for it. Found that he _couldn't_ brace for it.

"Don't you think, should Arthur have magic, should Arthur _be_ Magic, that we ought to support him?" Gwaine asked quietly, his voice low and gaze serious.

Merlin let out a high pitched and bird-like noise in response. He sounded positively avian in nature as all words deserted him in that moment. Because - _what?_ Arthur? Magic? That's what Gwaine thought? That _Arthur_ was the one with magic? Merlin had been sure - so very sure - that Gwaine had been leading up to accusing Merlin of sorcery. It was inconceivable that he wasn't doing so. Merlin had been so sure, so terribly and terrifyingly sure. And that he was accusing Arthur of it instead? It stunned him. Completely and utterly stunned him. The more Merlin simply stared, wide-eyed and scrambling to collect his thoughts, the more Gwaine's expectant, earnest demeanor began to shift into confusion and slight worry.

"Don't you agree?" Gwaine asked softly, brow wrinkled in concern.

"Mm!" Merlin finally replied, the noise still quite bird-like, and quickly nodded his head.

Gwaine's forehead creases smoothed. "I know Arthur prefers pretending that he doesn't practice magic," He continued as if those were words that actually belonged together in a sentence, "But I thought - maybe it's hard on him. With his father and all. Maybe he himself isn't comfortable with his magic. And that maybe he'd appreciate having people - having _friends_ \- who know about him and act normal about it. Maybe even help him feel comfortable with himself. Don't you think?"

Merlin stared at Gwaine, tried to look at his earnestness and accept it as true even though it went against all of his most self-depreciating thoughts because here Gwaine was trying to support Arthur and Arthur's magic when Merlin had thought that should anyone suspect himself of magic that they'd forsake him for sure. His eyes felt suspiciously wet.

"Yes," Merlin agreed and pretended that he couldn't hear the rawness and longing in his voice. "I agree."

* * *

"Merlin," Gaius frowned. "Is everything alright? You've hardly touched your dinner."

Merlin quickly shoved a spoonful into his mouth to physically prove how everything was alright. "Everything's fine," He answered, mouth full, and Gaius sighed at his poor manners.

" _Really?_ Nothing happened today while I was with Uther?"

Merlin shook his head. "Nope. Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Gaius raised a skeptical eyebrow. "If you don't mind me saying it, you look positively shaken up."

Once again, Merlin shook his head. "Can't imagine why. Nothing happened."

"I see." And then Gaius let the topic drop and instead began to drone on about whatever it was that Uther had needed him for - some sort of consultation and something about some magical book or something.

However, the next morning when Gwaine showed up bright and early for fresh bandages and willow bark tea, Gaius turned to Merlin with such an unimpressed look, his eyebrow lifted very, _very_ high upon his face. He didn't confront Merlin about having very obviously lied - but that eyebrow truly said it all.

* * *

"Merlin," Arthur caught his attention from the doorway of Gaius' chambers. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Well, here I am." He gestured to himself needlessly despite it being obvious that Arthur had indeed found him.

"Come on, let's go."

"Um, what?"

Arthur sighed. "There's a plight upon some of the outer villages. Livestock gone missing, rumors of cloaked men and the sort. My father is sending me out to ensure our borders are secure and have not been breached."

Merlin frowned. "When was this?"

"While you were busy doing - " Arthur paused. "Well. Doing whatever it is that you do that _isn't_ cleaning my chambers like you're _supposed_ to be doing, my father called upon me. Now hurry up. I've already sent word to a few of my knights."

Arthur turned to leave, and Merlin scrambled to follow. "You did? All by yourself?"

Unimpressed, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, Merlin, I am quite capable."

"Capable enough to clean your own chambers, perhaps?"

"Oh shut up." Arthur shook his head, not in answer but in exasperation.

He shrugged. "When you said you gathered a few knights," Merlin grinned as they descended down the stone stairs and came upon all of their friends at the ready and waiting with horses in the main courtyard. "You didn't say that you assembled all the best ones." Arthur flushed, somewhat caught out, and Merlin laughed in delight.

"Alright, that's enough," Arthur said. "Grab your horse and get going."

"Aww, someone gathered a pack for me!" Merlin noticed, beaming. "Arthur, did you tell them to do that?" Arthur resolutely ignored him and his princely ears burning red as he grabbed the cantle of the saddle and stepped up into the girth stirrup. "That's strangely considerate of you."

"Strangely - " Arthur turned, annoyed, half on and half off of the pommel. Then he remembered himself and sat down deliberately with stiff dignity. "Just shut up and get on your horse."

Merlin shrugged and did exactly that, amused.

* * *

After having left the citadel, Leon urged his horse forward to keep even with Arthur's. "Sire."

Arthur inclined his head. "Anything to report, Sir Leon?"

"A few of the patrolmen near the border have heard about this. Rumors say it isn't the work of an encroaching army but instead mayhaps is the doing of a sorcerer, Sire."

"Right. I should have known." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You know, not every person who uses magic is evil," Gwaine said casually. Merlin turned to stare back at him in mild horror. "This one fellow I used to know back a couple years ago - "

"Gwaine," Arthur interrupted and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unlike Merlin, he hadn't even turned to deign Gwaine with so much as a glance. "Please do not confess to having consorted with sorcerers." 

"Of course not, Sire." Gwaine answered easily, incredibly unconcerned. "Ignore this old maltworm." And then behind Arthur's back, he winked toward Merlin who stared back both unimpressed and astounded at his antics. When Gwaine had said that they were going to support Arthur, well, Merlin hadn't been entirely sure as to what that meant. But it looked like that meant not so subtle hints at treason. _Wonderful_.

As Merlin faced forward once more, Lancelot caught his eye. He lifted an eyebrow casually but his mouth was turned down in obvious worry as he eyed Gwaine pointedly as if to silently inquire whether or not there was a problem and if Merlin needed help with that problem. Merlin shook his head but it didn't seem to do much to dislodge the worry from Lancelot's face. 

Later that night, when camp was done being set up and all were situated around the fire, Lancelot leaned into Merlin's side. "Does he know? About you?" Lancelot asked quietly into Merlin's ear. Merlin turned. The worry pinched at Lancelot's handsome face and Merlin felt a bit bad at placing it there. 

"No," Merlin assured him. Or tried to anyways. If anything, Lancelot's frown deepened. He then turned his gaze towards where Gwaine sat across the fire talking to Elyan, as if trying to parse further clues. Merlin took a sweeping check around the fire and deemed all the knights occupied enough in their own conversations. "He thinks," Merlin said and lowered his voice as quiet as he could manage, "that Arthur has magic." 

Lancelot immediately looked away from Gwaine and back to Merlin. "He thinks - " He broke off as Merlin nodded. Then the worry seemed to melt away from his face; Merlin felt his shoulders slump in relief. And then Lancelot leaned his head back and laughed - more heartily than Merlin had ever heard him laugh. It drew the attention of the others. 

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked. Asked with an expectancy of being answered but he hadn't _demanded_ like he would have done only a year ago; Merlin was rather proud of that dollophead's progress.

Lancelot merely shook his head. Percy tilted his head curiously at that refusal to answer; it wasn't typical behavior of Lancelot. His boisterous laughter ebbed down and the remaining amusement on his face looked somewhat boyish and unfamiliar on Lancelot, who was usually quite distinguished in appearances and behavior. Merlin quite liked to see his friend wear such a look. Liked to see the mildly mischievous sparkle in his brown eyes.

"It isn't that funny, you know." Merlin spoke after the knights had once again resumed their conversations among each other.

"Merlin," Lancelot said. "Yes it is."

He conceded easily. "Yeah," Merlin smiled, amused as well even though this was bound to end in total disaster. "It is, isn't it?"

* * *

They had traveled two days when Arthur stopped in a glade. They rested the horses and listened as Arthur addressed them. "Alright, from here, we'll split up. I need Sir Leon and Sir Elyan to investigate the town ahead. My father thinks that there should be some sort of tome that would be beneficial to us. Supposedly it contains an ancient map which surveys the land," The doubt in Arthur's voice in how useful that would be to them was clear. Merlin abruptly realized that maybe this was what Gaius had been talking about over dinner and that _maybe_ he should have been listening more closely instead of being entrenched in his own thoughts. "See if it is indeed true that they possess such a map but focus your attention on rumors regarding the sorcerer - or army, whichever it may be. Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival, you two head to the Eastbound village. Ask about the sorcerer; you should have more luck, as he was spotted in that area a fortnight ago according to reports. Sir Lancelot, Merlin, with me. On the morrow, everyone meets back here. Regardless of whether or not you've obtained any useful information. You will report to me, we shall all meet here in this glade by sundown. Is that understood?"

"Understood, Sire," The knights answered and gracefully, swiftly, mounted their horses and departed to follow through upon Arthur's orders.

"So where are we going?" Merlin asked. "You never said."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'll be excited to hear that we're going to the Northern inn."

"Why would I be excited about that?" Merlin asked, baffled, and settled upon his horse.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Because it's a tavern, Merlin."

"Ah." Darn Gaius for using the tavern every single time as a cover story.

Lancelot coughed quietly but Merlin was sure that it was merely an ill disguised laugh.

* * *

"Everyone's here," Merlin smiled when sundown struck the glade. On journeys like these, there always seemed to be trouble, and it was a relief to see everyone well.

"What have you learned?" Arthur addressed the group.

"Not much," Gwaine answered. "It was as you said, the sorcerer was spotted a fortnight ago doing unscrupulous magic in those parts. Village hasn't seen nor heard of the sorcerer ever since."

Arthur frowned. "I see. At least we have confirmed that it is a sorcerer and not an army belonging to a neighboring kingdom." His gaze flickered to Leon, who was holding a scroll in one hand.

"We found the map. It was indeed in the town."

"You've looked at it, I presume?" Arthur asked and held out an expectant hand.

"Yes, Sire." Leon stepped forward and handed the scroll over to Arthur hesitantly, which was unusual enough to alert Merlin that something was wrong.

"What is it?" Merlin asked and tried to look as Arthur unfurled the map, trying to decipher what made the terrain around them difficult enough to cause even Leon to falter. It looked like an ordinary map from what he could see from over Arthur's shoulder but he was a couple paces away.

"The townsfolk said that the map can only be read by those with magic." Elyan informed them, which was a very good thing he had, since Merlin might have revealed his secret in the worst possible way: by accidentally giving them directions.

Arthur wound the scroll up with a sigh. "If it's so useless, then why do they even _have_ it?" He groaned.

"It's apparently a historical artifact," Elyan added with a look that he clearly agreed with Arthur's sentiment. "There are copies made by magical scribes in the past in which they are willing to part with. " He gestured to the scroll in Arthur's hands. "But apparently it's still unreadable to common folks."

"Had we a sorcerer acquaintance, this would be a lot easier," Gwaine mused. Merlin looked at him in disbelief. Why was it, he thought mournfully, that Gwaine preferred to have no subtly in matters that required them the most? His forthright attitude was often charming; now, however, it was unbelievable.

"Hold your tongue," Arthur warned.

Gwaine shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"Yes, well, do not say such again." Arthur told him and then gestured to Leon. "Let's reconvene and come up with a plan. Merlin, start a fire. We're setting up camp for the night."

"Gwaine," Merlin turned to face his friend. "Why don't you come help me gather firewood?"

Gwaine nodded. "Sure thing, Merlin. Percy, mate, set up my tent, will you? Me and Merlin are off to get firewood." The tall knight rolled his eyes at Gwaine but nodded nonetheless, easily hefting Gwaine's pack from his horse as well as his own. "I owe you one!"

"You owe him several," Lancelot pointed out, amused, and Percival chuckled.

Gwaine was grinning as he followed Merlin's lead. When they were deep enough into the woods that he was certain the knights wouldn't overhear, Merlin paused.

"You," Merlin warned, "Are going to get yourself in trouble! Stop antagonizing Arthur."

Gwaine came to a stop as well, raising his eyebrows. "I can't help it if he's a little sensitive."

"A little - Gwaine," Merlin noted reasonably, "You purposefully keep talking about sorcery. Which is _illegal_."

Gwaine shrugged. "What's he going to do? Banish me?"

"Awfully confident words from someone who has, in fact, been banished before." Merlin pointed out.

Gwaine laughed. "Ah but you see, here I am. It didn't quite stick, now did it?" Merlin shook his head at him. "I can handle a little trouble, don't worry so much."

"I'm not worried," Merlin denied. Gwaine lifted an eyebrow. "I just don't want to see you accused of treason, that's all. Uther's not going to leave it at banishing you if you're accused of being a sympathist to sorcerers."

His friend shrugged. "Fair point. However! So far, so good, eh Merlin?" Gwaine asked with a grin so wide that Merlin couldn't help but to smile back despite himself, shaking his head all the while.

That night Merlin snuck a look at the map and tried to memorize the landscape; it worked enough that when later Merlin whispered to Lancelot that there was an upcoming _invisible_ cliff, Lancelot managed to subtly steer the group away from it. Likewise, Merlin enlisted Lancelot's help in taking down the sorcerer, who really had nothing better to do than to steal livestock and plague the neighboring towns. It was surprisingly quick. Honestly, Merlin thought, as Arthur accepted the overflowing praise from his knights about defeating the sorcerer like the hufty-tufty he was, he didn't understand why people became evil sorcerers at all - especially when they weren't even _good_ at it in the first place.

* * *

See, the thing was, Arthur had been thinking about it since the Perilous Lands. Had been mulling over the implications of what had been said, who had been with him, what it all meant. He didn't like to think about it because he was pretty sure he knew what it meant and he didn't want to admit that truth even to himself.

But sometimes Arthur couldn't help but to think about it.

And so he thought about how he and his two comrades - not that, at the time, he knew there to be any comrades with him on a quest that he was _supposed_ to have endeavored on alone - were given, what in hindsight was obvious to be the monikers of Strength, Courage, and Magic. It seemed fairly straightforward in that one person represented the epitome of strength, the other the epitome of courage, and finally the last one the epitome of, well - and see that was the thing, where Arthur's thoughts always stumbled and his heart always leapt into his throat - of magic. Strength. Courage. And, damn it all, Magic.

It was obvious, extremely so, that Arthur was to represent Strength. Which left the other two for his companions. Arthur hated thinking about it. No matter how he looked at it, no matter from what angle he tried to spin it - one of his friends was the _very epitome of magic._ The betrayal was blinding and Arthur cannot - _cannot_ \- bring himself to examine it too closely. Hasn't been able to for all this time, lest he get too close to answers that, frankly, _he doesn't want to know_.

It was selfish and cowardly but sometimes? He just didn't want to know. And so he doesn't. Never dug too deep, never pried too much.

And even with his deliberate ignorance, he couldn't help but to put the pieces together anyways.

" _Take me with you,_ " Merlin had begged, on the edge of death with no chance of survival but damn it all if Arthur wouldn't at least _try_ instead of keeping him close like Merlin pleaded. It hadn't been the first moment that Arthur had cursed their friendship, had felt guilt over dragging a stupid idiot of a boy everywhere with him where he could get _hurt_. It also hadn't been the first time that Arthur looked at said idiot and wondered why he had to be so stupidly brave? Why did Merlin always have to surprise him again and again with his courage? Why did he never waiver when it really came down to it, when Arthur wished more than anything that he would?

Seeing him pale and dying, at the time Arthur had wanted to save his friend even though there didn't seem to be even a chance of doing so. Because he was _afraid_. Afraid of losing him and afraid of life without Merlin in it.

Now, in hindsight, Arthur couldn't help it as he wondered if maybe it hadn't been Merlin's stupidity or stubbornness that always kept him insisting to stay by Arthur's side - but instead was his courage.

It wouldn't have been the first time Arthur had thought of Merlin as brave. Not by far.

And, if truth be told, the thought could be traced back to their very first encounter, when Arthur had been awed and outraged at the sheer daring of the peasant before him. He had often joked of Merlin's supposed faintheartedness - but he never truly had meant it, had always thought the opposite. Had always thought Merlin and bravery as two things that went hand in hand, easy as all other facts existing in the world, not to be contested because it had been proven again and again, over and over. Arthur wasn't one to look facts in the eye and deny them.

It had always surprised him - and it always will, he suspects - how deeply Merlin's bravery and honor ran. More so than any knight. Time and time again, always unearthing new depths about Merlin that Arthur wished sometimes would stay buried; he didn't need to know how often, how desperate Merlin was to die in his place. He didn't need to know the stubborn frown Merlin wore while dying as he worried selflessly - stupidly - over Arthur instead. Arthur didn't need to know these sort of things but he did - because it was a repeated occurrence, another fact of the world: Merlin's bravery never ended, never went away, even in the face of the worst situations.

From drinking poison intended for Arthur to marching alongside him in what had been thought to be certain death, Merlin never failed to surprise him by that bravery. Poison, trolls, his father, dragons - nothing seemed too insurmountable to Merlin because the alternative had never been an option for him. He would either die at Arthur's side or not at all. Brave to the end, and many of those times Arthur _had_ thought it to be the end. Had cursed stubborn manservants but also himself for allowing Merlin to stay with him - and for being glad of it, to have a friend in what he had thought to be his final moments. Merlin's courage always had made things seem easier, more clear.

No, Merlin's courage was terrible in how portent and never-ending it was - was wonderful in the very same way.

Surely it wasn't too far, then, to take the knowledge of such things and to decide that perhaps Merlin was the very epitome of courage.

And Arthur shut his eyes and felt terrible at the relief it painted in his mind because if Merlin - time and time again - displayed so much courage, maybe it wasn't too far off the mark to label him _as_ Courage?

Of course, if the one out of two men have been identified, that only leaves one option for the other remaining man. And Arthur hated to even think it, hated to even consider thinking it. But...

But perhaps if Merlin was Courage, then that left Gwaine to be Magic.

Which was terrible. Unthinkable.

But, God, at least it wasn't Merlin.

* * *

The conversation started by way of not making much sense. Which was pretty typical of Arthur, really. Merlin often had to interrupt him to clarify what on Earth he was talking about because Arthur tended to get so wrapped up in his own head that sometimes he initiated conversations about topics he had been thinking over for _days_ \- and Merlin had to catch up in a manner of seconds.

So when Arthur started off by not making much sense, it wasn't a big deal. To be honest, Merlin was more focused on darning the hole in one of Arthur's shirts than trying to decipher words but that was neither here nor there.

"Merlin, sometimes I think that - and mind you, this isn't every day now but sometimes, _sometimes_ \- I think that perhaps you aren't a girl's petticoat after all."

"Mm," Merlin nodded sarcastically. "High praise indeed, Sire." He frowned as he lost the thread from the needle's eye. And so admittedly, he somewhat tuned into what Arthur was saying but mostly filtered it out until he had rethreaded the needle.

"I don't always understand you," Arthur was saying when Merlin refocused on him and the darning both. "But I'd like to think that, after all this time, that I do know you."

"You do," Merlin agreed.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, well... You've never been afraid to stand up to me or my father," Arthur mused, and Merlin quirked a brow because perhaps Arthur was still warming up to spitting out whatever was on him mind after all because that was somewhat random and didn't make too much sense. "Never have been afraid to insult me in any case."

Merlin smiled over his shoulder at him. "How could I resist when you're such a dollophead?"

Something strengthened upon Arthur's face then and Merlin paused. Something had shifted. He stopped what he was doing and turned to face the blonde, brow lowering at he took in the unusual expression. "Arthur? You alright?"

"Merlin," Arthur said lowly. "You've always done - well, you've never let fear stop you from doing what you believe is right."

"I... suppose?" Merlin was confused where this was going. And it wasn't like Arthur to beat around the bush for _this_ long - and especially not with such a worry-some air about him.

Arthur nodded, face grim. "Yes, it makes sense. Even though you're a coward and a girl for most things, you're one of the bravest men I've met."

"Er... thanks," Merlin frowned. And then he stood and leaned forward to place his palm on Arthur's forehead, checking for a temperature.

"What the - I'm not sick, Merlin!" He snapped and recoiled from the touch.

Merlin stared dubiously at him. "Riiight. Well you don't have a temperature in any case but I suppose a lot of things don't have a fever as a symptom and - "

"For God's sake, Merlin," Arthur interrupted. "I'm fine. What has gotten into you?"

" _Me?_ " Merlin gaped. "You're the one calling me brave!"

"I didn't!" Arthur protested instinctively, looking embarrassed. "I mean, it's not like you're not brave _and_ a coward. It's just - you have courage, is all."

"Right." Merlin eyed him, still doubting his well being.

Arthur's embarrassment faded into something more serious. "I've been thinking about this." He looked Merlin in the eye. "If you're the epitome of Courage, and I'm the epitome of Strength, then that leaves Gwaine."

Merlin stared numbly at Arthur, realizing what this strange conversation was about, that Arthur too had been told those words upon the bridge. "You don't mean - "

His mouth was grim and said everything without uttering another word.

It was bad enough when Gwaine thought Arthur to have magic. But to have Arthur think _Gwaine_ to have magic? It was _terrifying_. Devastating.

"Arthur," Merlin said carefully, heart thudding in his chest because this was all his fault and Gwaine's life was at stake because of him now, "Arthur, it's Gwaine. He doesn't - Gwaine is an honorable man. He would never mean you harm."

The two of them avoided the word that neither of them wanted to say. "If he is," Arthur continued quietly, very clearly not addressing Gwaine's honor but instead his potential magic, "If he is, then I cannot condone it."

"Arthur - "

"However," Arthur interrupted and looked away. "What he's done before he came to Camelot shouldn't be held in exemption toward his character now. You're right in that he's an honorable man. And any past... actions that may cast doubt upon that, they're not to be considered more than the man who he is now. Do you understand?"

"You said I was right," Merlin pointed out, trying to not focus on the way his insides were churning terribly in guilt and anxiety for having placed Gwaine in this predicament, "You _must_ not be feeling well."

Arthur scowled, and for a moment all was right with the world.

As usual, Arthur had to ruin it.

"I have told you this in confidence of course," Arthur said quietly. "Word absolutely cannot get back to my father. Speak of this to no one."

"I understand," Merlin agreed hastily and tried not to think about _Gwaine_ being accused of witchcraft or sorcery. "But, Arthur... why tell me?"

Arthur's expression fell. "I... Get back to work, Merlin." He gestured to the shirt in Merlin's hands. And then never did answer the question.

* * *

"You're right about the painting," Merlin said cheerfully in way of greeting. "He looks dreadful."

"Merlin!" Gwaine beamed and swung his door open much wider. "You came to visit!"

"Yeah, well, Arthur's been busy, and I'm caught up on all my duties so I figured - why not?"

"Take a seat," Gwaine said and waved a lazy arm to his bed, one of the two pieces of furniture in the room - the other being a tall wooden armoire that was sure to contain his armor and affects. "What can I do for you, my friend?"

Merlin shook his head automatically but then paused. "You know... I haven't forgotten your offer to sing to me."

Gwaine laughed brightly. "Shall I sing to you then?"

Merlin grinned. "Really?"

"Oh I gave you my word," Gwaine teased. "And as a knight of Camelot, I must uphold my vow."

"It was hardly a vow." Gwaine inclined his head, conceding the point. "Go on then," Merlin settled into Gwaine's bed more comfortably, since Gwaine appeared to remain standing. And his bed was _much_ more comfortable than his own; being a knight obviously had its perks.

Gwaine tapped a finger on his chin. "Ah, let me see."

And from drinking songs to Gregorian chants to dillydouns, Gwaine sang until Merlin had roared with laughter and felt happier than he had in a long time.

* * *

"Merlin," Gwaine said and his voice, somewhat raspy due to his long bout of singing, was unusually serious. "Something's been bothering you." It wasn't a question.

"Nothing's been _bothering_ me," Merlin chuckled. "I mean, besides Arthur of course but _that's_ nothing new."

Gwaine looked at Merlin from the corner of his eye. "Nothing?"

"What's this all about?" Merlin asked and gave another chuckle.

Gwaine faced him fully, and the intensity of his gaze quickly froze Merlin in place, chuckles dying in his throat. Gwaine was serious. "Merlin," Gwaine said, soft and fierce, and sounding so much like he had so long ago when he had corrected _"Not Arthur"_ back in the Perilous Lands. "Merlin, you flinch every time I bring up Arthur's magic." He didn't, Merlin thought immediately but then couldn't help but to wonder: did he? "I would never force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Gwaine continued on, his gaze and voice burning steady, "You understand? I would never. If it's a problem for you, you only had to say so. I know living in Camelot must have had its effects on you, but I hadn't realized - it never occurred to me, and I _am_ sorry - I hadn't realize that you would be so frightened."

And for a moment, the air didn't touch his lungs as he inhaled sharply, sitting up. Gwaine _knew_. He knew -

"I hadn't realized you were afraid of magic," Gwaine continued on, and for a second time the air caught the wrong way in Merlin's lungs; except this time, it sent him into a fit of coughs. "I'm sorry for shoving you at Arthur. But you must understand, Merlin, the way Camelot is - that fear that Uther instills upon everyone? - it's not like that everywhere. Magic isn't inherently bad. And I'm sure you've only seen the worst of it, but it isn't bad. Arthur would never use his magic to hurt you. I sincerely believe that. And I strongly suspect, that somewhere deep inside, you must believe it too."

Merlin slumped over, head resting in his hands. Frankly? He wanted to cry. That had been a _terrifying_ moment in which he had - again! - thought Gwaine knew about Merlin having magic but instead it was - it was _this!_ Gwaine thought him to be afraid of magic. Afraid of _Arthur's_ magic! Because he still believed Arthur the one to have magic! Which should have been somewhat of a relief since that meant Gwaine didn't suspect Merlin, but it only seemed all the more to exhaust him and send him nearly into tears. Merlin was so tired. The thought that Gwaine knew he had magic had stolen every breath and every ounce of energy within him. He was left now with aching lungs and the overwhelming need to be anywhere but here, in front of Gwaine who was calmly analzying every movement he made.

"I believe," Gwaine said, and placed a hand upon the curve of Merlin's hunched shoulder, "That there isn't anything you wouldn't do for Arthur. And staying by his side when you fear magic so? When you fear Arthur so? Merlin, I think you to be the most loyal man I've ever met." Merlin laughed, half a sob and half hysterical. Merlin didn't fear Arthur because _Arthur_ had magic. Merlin feared Arthur because Merlin had magic. It was strange how close Gwaine was the truth while having been so very far from it at the exact same time. At the sound, Gwaine's fingers had curled tighter around the shape of Merlin's shoulder. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," Gwaine repeated, voice still quiet and piercing in his sincerity. "But I'd like your help with Arthur. We're the only two who know about it. And, I think, I'd like your help with you."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked and managed to finally lift his head. Gwaine stared at him ardently and Merlin managed to also unhunch his shoulders, lift his head completely from where it lay upon his hands; Gwaine's palm remained on his shoulder even as he did so.

"I think you know," Gwaine watched him intently, as if in case Merlin reacted terribly, but still without any intention to censure whatever it was that was next to leave his mouth. Gwaine never was one to shy away from things or to restrain himself; he could if the need arose, but he didn't like to. And it was clear that Gwaine felt no need for restraint, only honesty. "You don't need to be afraid of magic. You don't need to be afraid of Arthur."

Merlin didn't know how to reply, what to _say_ to that.

"If you let me," Gwaine's voice softened. "I'll show you."

Merlin shook his head. "Show me?"

Gwaine's eyes were full of patient sympathy. "I'll show you that you don't need to be afraid of magic."

Merlin laughed, the sound shaky and near breathless. "Gwaine, that's not - " He broke himself off, unsure of how to continue. Of what he could say without exposing too much of himself. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, really I do, but..." He paused, bit his lip, and tried to vocalize that it wasn't necessary. Nothing came out.

"But?" Gwaine prompted, looking so concerned that Merlin couldn't help but to feel like the worst person in the world for making him worry so much when there wasn't anything _to_ worry about.

"I don't think..." Merlin broke off once again and sighed. He didn't know why it was so difficult. All he had to say was no.

"Let me try," Gwaine said, and the determination in his face - from his blazing eyes to the serious turn of his mouth - it was one of the qualities Merlin had always admired about Gwaine, his stubborn fearless desire to do the right thing and hang all the consequence that came with it.

"Okay," Merlin agreed. Agreed because he couldn't look Gwaine's righteousness head on and not be moved by it. Agreed because maybe Arthur was right after all and Merlin was an _idiot_. Agreed because his friend was worried about him and this seemed such a simple way to ease that worry.

Gwaine smiled, and Merlin couldn't bring himself to regret agreeing. No, _that_ came later, when he was alone in his room and wondering what on Earth he had been _thinking_.

"Budge over," Gwaine said and made to get into the bed alongside him. Merlin obliged, laughing softly as he dodged an elbow as Gwaine tried to squeeze himself into a bed generous for one knight but not so generous for one knight _and_ a long-limbed manservant. "You can stay the night if you like," Gwaine offered easily. "I'll sing you another dillydourn, help you fall asleep."

"Gwaine." When Merlin spoke, the remnants of his earlier fear had all but dissipated and had given way to soft appreciation towards his friend. "If you sing _one more_ song, I'll shove you out of this bed, don't think I won't."

Gwaine gasped theatrically. "But Merlin, after I serenaded you so sweetly?" Like he hadn't been fully aware that, other than his drinking songs that fell easily from his mouth with the ease of many repetitions and familiarity, he sounded like a cat who had just touched water when he sang any other type of song.

Merlin laughed hard enough that Gwaine did nearly end up falling out after all - but it was completely on accident, no matter what Gwaine accused him of.

* * *

"Merlin, just who I was looking for!" Gwaine grinned upon entering the armory. Merlin was polishing Arthur's armor and some of the pages were polishing armor as well; however Merlin was much more easily spotted over the much younger pages around him like a sole tree in the middle of a field full of bushes.

"Well you've found me," Merlin paused in his scrubbing to offer a smile to his friend.

Gwaine reached underneath his jerkin to the pocket around his waist and retrieved something for Merlin to take.

"What's this?" Merlin asked despite the answer being obvious.

"It's a necklace, Merlin."

"Yes, Gwaine, I can see that!" Merlin laughed. "I meant what is it, as in: why are you handing it to me?"

Gwaine grinned and crooked one finger. Obligingly, Merlin leaned forward, somewhat amused. "It is," Gwaine whispered in Merlin's ear, his long hair falling over them like a curtain that cut them off from the outside world and held their conversation secluded from everyone else in the room, "An enchanted necklace."

" _What?_ " Merlin gasped and pulled back immediately. "Gwaine!"

"Shh!" Gwaine hushed and gave the room a quick scan, a finger against his lips. Merlin followed his gaze but none of the pages seemed to have paid any attention to the outburst. Satisfied, Gwaine returned his focus to Merlin and smiled mischievously. He removed his finger and then once again crooked it. More warily this time, Merlin leaned forward. Gwaine didn't resume his position at Merlin's ear but instead merely brought his face close to Merlin's, a breath apart and more suited for conversation back and forth.

"Gwaine," Merlin hissed. "Why do you have this - and _why_ are you giving it to me?"

"I got it in Essetir," Gwaine whispered, which was an answer to neither of the questions Merlin had asked. "It brings, ah, _good luck_." The way in which Gwaine said that had Merlin suspicious; 'good luck' was often used as an euphemism for magic by the lower class.

"You can't really believe that!" Merlin protested, remembering all of the times an enchanted piece of jewelry had been dangerous - which was every single time!

"Don't worry," Gwaine assured him, voice low but smile loud. "I tested it out first. It's completely safe."

"You - " Merlin broke off and pulled back to better look Gwaine in the eye. He was _serious_. "That was dangerous!" He scolded. "What if it hadn't been safe? What then? You weren't even in Camelot! Gaius and I wouldn't have been able to help should things have gone wrong - and you're very lucky they didn't go wrong!"

Gwaine's grin was unconcerned. "Yes, I gather that had a little bit to do with a _lucky_ necklace."

Merlin stared at him, horrified at this chain of thought Gwaine displayed. "That's not how it works!"

Gwaine shrugged, as if uncaring of his potential demise due to unsavory or cursed amulets. "It's safe, I promise."

"You couldn't guarantee that," Merlin argued and tried not to imagine what could have happened to his friend.

"But I can now," Gwaine said as his laughter fell away and suddenly he had become serious in between the span of one moment to the next. "There's nothing to fear, Merlin." His hand extended pointedly. "Take the necklace."

"I - what?" Merlin blinked.

Gwaine stared at him. Waited.

"But - " Merlin tried to protest, as a wave on unnerve swept over him. "I can't."

"Why not?" Gwaine asked.

"I'm the prince's manservant - I can't be in possession of - of sorcerer artifacts!" Gwaine's laughter was so loud and sudden that it drew several curious glances. "Gwaine!"

"'Sorcerer artifacts' he says," Gwaine guffawed quietly - but not quietly enough, in Merlin's opinion. "Merlin, mate, it's just a necklace. For good luck." Merlin quickly snatched the dangling necklace from Gwaine's outstretched hand before any of the pages started to examine it too closely. It looked like a normal necklace - if, perhaps, one too expensive for Merlin to possess - but he didn't want to take any chances for someone to recognize it for what it was: magic. "Atta boy," Gwaine grinned and then used his hand, now free of the necklace, to pat Merlin's cheek twice - similarly to how the knights slapped each other on the back twice but much, much more gentle. "We'll have you unafraid of magic in no time, you'll see. You just need to be exposed to soft magic, like this. The kind that helps instead of hurting." 

"Gwaine, can you _please stop_ saying that word?" They weren't even alone! Gwaine laughed. 

"I'll be seeing you," Gwaine said in way of answer. 

"This isn't over!" Merlin warned him as he started to walk away.

Gwaine merely laughed and waved one hand over his shoulder in goodbye.

* * *

Merlin made sure to glare at the pages when rumors of Gwaine and Merlin courting surfaced within the same day.

Honestly!

"Is it really true?" Gwen pulled him aside the next morning in front of the kitchens. "Gwaine offered you a piece of jewelry with intentions of courtship?"

"No, no isn't." Merlin answered loudly and pretended that no less than three scullery maids weren't listening in. "And I swear, Gwen, none of those gossipmonger pages should be allowed to be squires. They should have to remain as pages forever. Oh look, there goes the bunch of eighty year old pages because they all couldn't mind their own business."

"They're just kids, Merlin." Gwen reminded him but looked distinctly amused. "You can't expect them not to gossip."

"I can if they ever want to become a squire!" He disagreed.

"Then don't give them anything to gossip over, hmm?" She suggested. Her intention was clearly to be kind, but it still made him squawk indignantly and then for her to laugh brightly in response.

"I've heard you have an intended," Lancelot said in lieu of greeting when they encountered each other in the halls. Merlin stared at him, utterly unamused, and turned around to walk back the way he came. Lancelot chuckled as he strode away. "Invite me to the wedding?"

"There's not going to _be_ a wedding!" Merlin shouted over his shoulder. In the crowded hallway. When rumors of his and Gwaine's elopement surfaced, he really only had himself to blame for that one.

* * *

"What's that?" Arthur asked, frowning.

"Hm?"

"That," Arthur repeated.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Merlin said, amused.

Arthur sighed, annoyed. Which, in Merlin's opinion, was his default state of being really. Then he stood from his chair, approached Merlin, and reached one hand froward. "This," He said pointedly and tugged on the necklace around Merlin's neck and under his neckerchief, with a deliberate but gentle yank. Merlin blinked.

"Oh _that_."

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Now that you've established you do, in fact, have an understanding of the English language, perhaps this conversation can proceed."

"It's a necklace," Merlin answered. It had been a few days since he'd had it. That Arthur was asking about it now meant that he hadn't heard the rumors involving him and Gwaine, which was a relief. At least _someone_ hadn't. Even Leon had teased him about it!

Arthur released said necklace and used his fingers instead to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Merlin, I can see that. What I want to know is where it came from."

"Oh. Why?" Merlin asked, immediately suspicious since Arthur tended to be somewhat self-absorbed. Maybe he had heard the rumors and was leading up to asking about them after all.

"Merlin." Arthur said simply, his exasperation more than clear.

Merlin shrugged and looked at Arthur strangely. "It's from Gwaine."

"It - " Arthur broke off, pursed his lips for a moment, and then continued. Merlin gave him another _look_ because this was odd behavior, even for Arthur, which unfortunately placed more merit on the idea that Arthur had indeed heard the rumors. "Gwaine gave that to you?"

"Mm-hmm. Said it was for good luck," Merlin answered honestly and then belatedly wondered if maybe he shouldn't have done so since Arthur thought Gwaine was a sorcerer and sometimes people used 'luck' as a euphemism for hedge work level of sorcery. He winced,

Arthur froze, and Merlin begun to think that, yeah, maybe he shouldn't have said that. "For good luck?" Arthur asked, voice oddly quiet, and again reached out to touch it with his fingers, knuckles brushing aside his neckerchief easily. Merlin nodded, not trusting himself with words since apparently he wasn't very good at the whole not implicating Gwaine of sorcery thing; but to be fair, Merlin wasn't used to being cautious about _other_ peoples' reputations, only his own. It was an odd balance of trying not to indicate he was being courted by Gwaine - because he wasn't! - and to not imply Gwaine to be a sorcerer - which he wasn't! Abruptly, Arthur's face softened. "He's a good man," Arthur said, eyes still quite focused on the necklace.

"He is," Merlin agreed and whole-heartedly meant it.

Then, strangely, Arthur sighed. He released the necklace with slow fingers and, even after it was free, stared at it _still_.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, not knowing what to say next but knowing he had to say something because this weird behavior, even for Arthur, plus he was kind of worried about Arthur possibly having the impression Gwaine might have enchanted the necklace or having courted him.

"A good man," Arthur repeated with a slow nod. He brought his eyes up to Merlin's and Merlin was startled to find approval in his gaze. "I'm glad someone's looking out for you."

Taken aback by the seldom often displayed tenderness from Arthur, Merlin blinked. Then nodded, if a bit uncertainly. "Yes, Sire."

At that, Arthur huffed a quiet laugh under his breath. "Goodness knows you need looking out for," He said in what Merlin supposed was meant to be a teasing manner - but sounded, oddly, much too affectionate to be such. Merlin looked at him quizzically but found no answers in Arthur's odd smile and couldn't quite keep up any amount of skepticism in the face of such soft affection.

"I can look after myself, you know," Merlin reminded him and adjusted his neckerchief since Arthur had messed it up a tad from the way he liked it to sit.

At that comment, Arthur's look of strange fondness changed into incredulity, and he burst into immediate laughter as if Merlin had just told him the most wonderful joke he had ever heard in his entire life. Prat, Merlin thought, even as his own lips twitched into a smile at the jovial sound of Arthur's happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (No, Arthur hadn't heard the courting/elopement rumors.)  
> chapter title: "Someone New" by Hozier


	2. "Go take this the wrong way"

Arthur could only live in denial for so long.

He had tried to not think of Gwaine as having magic - had tried to convince himself that he could be mistaken. But there was only so long Arthur could pretend to be ignorant. And truly Gwaine didn't help matters at all. For instance, the last time bandits had attacked? Arthur had seen no less than _three_ tree branches suddenly and mysteriously 'fall' and knock out the bandits; as they were ambushed while on the road, they hadn't even been _very_ close to the trees that lined the path! It had left Arthur entirely unimpressed by the lack of subtly but also somewhat impressed because Gwaine had taken out three bandits all the while fighting vigorously with his sword. Still, it left Arthur with little choice but to think that, right, he should probably stop putting off that talk he'd been intending to have with Gwaine.

Especially after Gwaine gave that necklace to Merlin. Honestly, what Gwaine had been thinking was - well, actually, Arthur could understand that one at least. Merlin needed all the protection he could get. But Gwaine should have known better than to give an enchanted necklace to someone and call it 'good luck.' Honestly! It was almost like he wanted to be caught!

Which was why Arthur could no longer ignore the situation and had called Gwaine to his chambers while Merlin was gone off picking herbs.

"So," Arthur started the conversation dryly. "Magic."

Immediately he had Gwaine's attention. "We're really doing this then, hm?" Gwaine asked as he eyed Arthur warily. Arthur twisted the ring around his finger and inclined his head. Gwaine shrugged. "Alright."

"Anything to say?" Arthur prompted when Gwaine merely sat in silence for a good minute or two.

Gwaine's gaze became even more assessing. "A few things." 

Arthur held both arms wide, a gesture to go on.

Gwaine hesitated and then said, "I know Camelot doesn't look fondly upon magic users." 

"For good reason," Arthur added but felt strangely guilty doing so in front of someone he liked and respected when he knew him to have said magic. 

Gwaine shrugged. "It might seem that way here in Camelot. But..." Gwaine paused. "The rest of the world?" Gwaine shook his head. "It's not like that. Magic isn't as feared. And there aren't magic users going about trying to kill everyone. Those are the exception, whereas here? Here, they're the norm."

Arthur frowned. "You can't be saying that magic users are peaceful?" But he supposed it made a weird sort of sense. If other kingdoms had nearly the same magic problem that Camelot did, surely they too would be persecuting all sorcerers and magic users?

"No," Gwaine said, which was surprising to Arthur somewhat. "Magic users _are_ , however, normal. There's bad ones, good ones. Powerful ones, ones that can't do all that much really. Not all of them are assassins, you know. Most of them don't even have the magical ability to be such in the first place. Magic doesn't have to be for battles and murder; it can just as easily - _more_ easily actually - be used for enchanting tokens, gardening, healing. Outside of Camelot, the majority of magic users I've encountered? Have all been rather untalented."

"Hedgework," Arthur agreed and thought of the necklace draped around Merlin's thin neck.

Gwaine grinned. "Yes, hedgework. _Exactly_."

Arthur wondered if perhaps enchanting necklaces was the extent of Gwaine's abilities. If all this time Arthur had second guessed his knight for being able to add a little extra 'luck' to one's day but was no more powerful than that. Thinking Gwaine to be limited to hedgework vastly made it easier to - to accept. Gwaine's loyalty wasn't a facade to lull them into a sense of security only to commit regicide. Or rather if it was, he'd probably use his sword and not magic to do so. An amulet of protection for Merlin? Arthur could live with that, he could. Magical feats capable of undertaking the whole entity of Camelot and her army? That was another matter - which was why it was good that, apparently, Gwaine wasn't quite as powerful as the sorcerers Arthur tended to encounter. Enchanting tokens, gardening, healing? If that was the tendency of Gwaine's talent's Arthur felt more vindicated in his decision to talk things out with Gwaine.

And it roused pity for Gwaine. "You have to understand," Arthur said in a low voice, "Merlin is afraid of magic."

Gwaine nodded, not surprised. Because of how boisterous he tended to be, Arthur sometimes forgot how perceptive he was as well; he had probably long picked up on Merlin's fear himself then. "Yeah, I figured that. Any idea why?" Arthur hesitated and Gwaine snorted. "Besides living in Camelot, I mean."

Arthur frowned but didn't dispute the point, even though Gwaine said 'Camelot' in a way Arthur wanted to protest. He supposed it must be different, being a magic user, and living here, must have skewed some of the kingdom's goodness in his eyes. "His friend Will was a sorcerer."

Gwaine's spine was suddenly very straight, posture ramrod. "Yeah?"

Ah ha, Arthur thought, _that_ had gotten Gwaine's attention - that Merlin was capable of befriending and possibly even accepting a sorcerer. And for a moment, Arthur was sure Gwaine would comment upon it.

He didn't. "Did Will die?"

Arthur met Gwaine's somber gaze; it wasn't curious and it looked like he knew the answer despite having asked. "Yes. He died saving their village."

"Ah," Gwaine tilted his head.

Arthur gave him a moment to think that over before continuing on, "During a plague, Gwen's father became ill - and recovered instead of dying. He was convicted of sorcery." The brunet closed his eyes and sighed. Arthur didn't have to say what his fate had been: everyone knew what the penalty was for sorcery in Camelot. "It was difficult for all of us, but Gwen most of all."

"I'd imagine," Gwaine agreed quietly.

"And - " Arthur broke off, paused. Gwaine eyed him lazily but his eyes were sharply focused. "Merlin has always been... soft-hearted. He cares, perhaps, a bit too much about people." Arthur could see that Gwaine knew exactly what he meant and didn't bother to explain that further. "Sometimes, when there are magical attacks... It's difficult, I think, for Merlin. He cares too much and there's no stopping the devastation magic can bring. It's a... helpless feeling, to stand and watch others die because there is often no way to defend them from sorcery, often no way to attack magic." Helpless for Merlin as well as Arthur.

"And, to him, magic has only wrought loss." Gwaine spoke softly.

Pity again coursed through Arthur. What must it be like for Gwaine to know that a friend as dear as Merlin probably feared him? "Yes," Arthur agreed quietly. "That is true. However, you are right in that the rest of the world isn't as afraid of magic as Camelot. That perhaps Camelot in return is only exposed to the worst sort of magic, the kind that would make Merlin fearful." 

Gwaine's eyes were sad, and Arthur's pity increased. "It's understandable."

"Do you think he'll ever stop being afraid?" Arthur asked in reply to Gwaine's easy acceptance to Merlin's fear, curious to how calmly Gwaine accepted such feelings, and wondered if Gwaine, due to a refusal to believe otherwise, thought that Merlin would change his mind.

Gwaine paused. "Maybe." He leaned closer. "I'll tell you a secret: I've been working on that with him."

Arthur leaned back, supremely startled. "You - " Gwaine was serious, utterly serious, and Arthur bit back his angry words at how reckless Gwaine was being. "Discretion!" Arthur warned him. "You cannot admit that to your prince! Likewise, you can't keep giving Merlin enchanted necklaces. People _will_ notice."

Gwaine blinked. And then he laughed, bright and full-bellied. "To be honest, I hadn't thought that _you_ would notice. I should have guessed that, I suppose."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I mean it. No more enchanted necklaces."

Gwaine grinned. "I'll leave that to you." The sheer gall of him!

"Get out," Arthur dismissed him sternly, shaking his head. Gwaine's grin was unrepentant. And he shrugged, stood up, and left the room and with him all evidence that they had been talking about such treasonous things as _sorcery_ dissipated.

* * *

"Merlin!" Gwaine waved him over, and Merlin squished past the throng of people to stand beside him. 

"Who do you think is going to win the jousting tournament?" Gwaine asked him and then wrapped a protective arm over his shoulders as the crowd moved like a current and tried to separate them.

"Arthur, of course."

While Arthur had knighted commoners while Uther had been indisposed and Uther honored that, that did not mean, however, that he granted them all the privileges of being a knight. Tournaments such as this one were off limits to any knight who was a commoner. Which was not only unfair but disappointing because Merlin _really_ wanted to see either Lance or Gwaine knock Arthur right off his horse.

"Well," Gwaine clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I've heard that noble from Nemeth has a shot of it."

As it turned out, the noble from Nemeth certainly _did_ have a shot at it - using magic that was. Merlin scowled as he quietly deflected the noble's magic with his own. The noble's magically embedded lance didn't matter when Merlin subtly swept him out of his saddle and he fell off his horse entirely; the crowd laughed uproariously.

Gwaine stilled. Against the constant movement of the crowd, it was very noticeable to Merlin. "Gwaine?"

"Son of a bitch," Gwaine said lowly and shook his head. "Don't tell me that the Princess wins all his competitions because of magic?"

Merlin winced. Not very subtle then after all. "Ah, not all of them, I'm sure."

Gwaine continued to shake his head. " _Unbelievable_."

If the next day Gwaine volunteered to spar against Arthur during morning training, only Merlin knew the reasoning behind it. During the whole spar, Arthur shot perplexed looks at Gwaine, who was unusually relentless and tenacious. Serious in a way he seldom was but was highly capable of being. Calm and talented and cold - but still cheeky enough to twirl his greatsword and catch it as Arthur stumbled backwards.

"Merlin," Arthur said to him afterwards in his chambers while Merlin was removing his armor. His face was twisted into the oddest look, as if something had just occurred to him and he didn't know yet how he felt about it. "Do you think Gwaine uses his - " He cleared his throat. " - His _abilities_ to enhance his sword work?" For a moment Merlin didn't understand. But when he did, he burst out into laughter. Arthur scowled. "Merlin!" But Merlin could not stop laughing even had he wanted to.

* * *

As amusing as it sometimes was that Gwaine thought Arthur to have magic while Arthur thought Gwaine to have magic, mostly it was just very stressful and it was quite possibly driving Merlin insane.

"I need to talk to you," Merlin said to Lancelot one day as he made his way into the armory after running drills with his fellow knights.

"Of course, Merlin," Lancelot nodded and stepped closer.

"Not here," Merlin eyed the knights, pages, and squires around them pointedly. Lancelot nodded.

"Very well." He made no move to stay in the armory, in fact even moved to leave it, and Merlin flushed, embarrassed at how keen Lancelot was to listen to him.

"You can take off your armor first, it's not - it's not important. Plus I also have to help Arthur with his armor in his chambers and should probably do that. Meet me in my room, alright?"

Lancelot looked like he very much doubted that it wasn't important but still nodded and left him to remove with armor and hand the worst of it to a page for polishing.

Merlin didn't have to wait long for Lancelot, as Lancelot had actually arrived there first and thus he didn't have to wait at all.

"What's wrong?" Lancelot asked, brows furrowed. Merlin peeked out his door to make sure Gaius still wasn't in his chambers like he hadn't been when Merlin had checked mere seconds ago and then shut the door anyways to be safe.

"So you know how I told you Gwaine thinks Arthur has magic? Well it gets worse. _Arthur_ thinks _Gwaine_ has magic."

Lancelot blinked. "What?"

"Yeah!" Merlin nodded. "It's, uh, quite the situation. Especially as both of them have chosen _me_ to confide in about this." Merlin said and with every word felt the need to expand upon it now that he was finally able to get this off his chest. "And Gwaine's been trying to get me to help him with showing Arthur that we would accept his magic but since I can't do that - because he doesn't _have_ any magic _to_ accept - Gwaine thinks that I'm _afraid_ of magic! And Arthur does as well actually? Which has always been somewhat helpful because I don't want him to think that _I_ have magic and him assuming that it frightens me has probably steered him away from any suspicion. But the point is, now Gwaine and is trying to have me get over my 'fear' because somehow he has got it in his head that if I'm not afraid of magic, then I can help him with Arthur who he _thinks_ has magic. And while Arthur isn't trying to make me get over my 'fear' - he's oddly bringing up magic quite more often than usual. Casually bringing it up! Like his father wouldn't kill literally everyone involved bringing it up! And so he's been asking my advice about Gwaine and Gwaine's been asking my advice about Arthur because, for whatever reason, they think I can help! But I can't actually help them because _neither_ of them _actually_ have magic! It's been me this whole time!"

Lancelot blinked slowly but seemed to have understood everything Merlin had just ranted about in one long impressive tirade. "Merlin," He said equally as slow, speaking to him as if he were a horse and as if going too fast would spook him, "Why don't you just tell them that then?"

Merlin recoiled. "I can't do that! You know I can't!"

"Why not?" Lancelot persisted. "It seems to me that both Gwaine and Arthur are trying to be supportive of each other's magic. Gwaine perhaps more so than Arthur, but for the son of Uther to be even vaguely supportive is a rather large sign of faith. I believe they would support your magic as well if they had a thought to do so."

"But! But!" Merlin protested. "It's not the same!"

Lancelot's face softened. "Why not?" He asked, as gentle as ever, and it was in moments like these that Merlin could understand why Gwen had fallen in love with him so easily.

"Because... it's not. No, really!" He added on quickly when Lancelot began to frown.

"How so?" The question stumped Merlin. He couldn't answer it. It just was different, that was all. Even if he couldn't explain it, it was. Clearly, though, Lancelot disagreed. "I think you should tell them," He said, brown eyes mushy and sweet and impossible for Merlin to yell at even as the panic at the suggestion instantly flooded through him at the mere idea. "Or," Lancelot continued, as keen eyes took in his expression and easily parsed through what Merlin was feeling, "Perhaps just Gwaine then."

And that hadn't been at all what Merlin was expecting him to say. The unexpectedness took him off guard enough to abate his panic somewhat as confusion took root first and foremost. "What?"

Lancelot smiled, patiently and handsomely. "What are your reasons for not telling Arthur?"

Merlin thought it obvious. "Because he'll hate me and his father will kill me?"

"And your reasons for not telling Gwaine?" Lancelot asked calmly. Merlin didn't see where he was going with this but answered all the same.

"Because he'll also hate me. I don't see how this is helpful for your argument, reminding me that both of them will hate me."

"Might hate you," He corrected. "And I think you're aware by now that that isn't true. Otherwise Gwaine and Arthur wouldn't be doing what they are for each other. And!" He continued as Merlin sought to object, "Even if they did end up hating you, let's consider that. In Gwaine's case, there is less for you to lose - isn't there? - if he ends up hating you? His good favor and friendship - as opposed to if you tell Arthur and he does end up hating you, you think he will also forfeit those but also your life as well. Am I wrong?"

He wasn't, wrong that was, but that wasn't the point. "I don't want to lose any of my friends!" Merlin protested. "Even if Gwaine doesn't have a father to kill me on his behalf, I still don't want him to hate me! Him or Arthur! I can't risk it!"

Lancelot placed gentle hands upon Merlin's tense shoulders, then trailed his palms down soothing to his upper arms; and, despite his worries, Merlin leaned into the soft affection that the friendly touch offered, the comfort and warmth Lancelot provided that Merlin could feel through the fabric of his tunic. "Merlin," Lancelot said simply and nothing more than than. Merlin sighed.

"Alright," Merlin agreed, voice small. "I'll consider it. I can't make any promises - but I'll consider it."

And most people might have left after convincing someone to their point of view. However Lancelot? Lancelot stayed. His palms were warm and steady on Merlin's arms and he let Merlin soak up all the affection and comfort he needed. Lancelot was more than willing to provide that comfort and to ease his friend's worry in the way that he could. Merlin tilted his neck down in a somewhat awkward angle and let his head fall upon Lancelot's shoulder. And Lancelot kept steady, touch soothing as Merlin let himself breathe in the comfort and kindness for just a moment more, just a few more minutes, and then he'd be fine.

If nothing else, Merlin thought as one of Lancelot's hands rose to soothe the neck ache that was sure to ensue due to Merlin's bending to reach far enough down to lay his head on his shoulder, if nothing else Merlin would have Lancelot. If Merlin did tell Gwaine - if he did tell Arthur - and if they hated him? Lancelot would be there for him in the aftermath. Lancelot, who had seen and known him and his magic this entire time and who had never flinched, not for one moment. Lancelot who had never failed to amaze Merlin by how good and kind he was.

"I _really_ don't want to," Merlin whispered.

"Then you don't have to," Lancelot said simply. As if that would be that and he would never bring the suggestion up again should Merlin decide he didn't want to. As if he trusted Merlin to decide these things for himself, despite clearly having thought that Merlin should tell at least Gwaine. As if he would keep Merlin's secret forever and nothing Merlin did or did not do would ever cause Lancelot to forsake him.

The way Lancelot trusted him after knowing him, truly knowing him - it had always left Merlin feeling vulnerable, having been seen and known, but also left him feeling warm and sure in that Lancelot would never falter in his kindness, in his friendship, in his compassion. Even after seeing, even after knowing. It always reminded Merlin that he wasn't alone, that he had someone dear to him, ever sure and everlasting. Ever true.

It was in the warmth of Lancelot's kindness and arms that Merlin realized that was Lancelot's entire point: that to be seen and known by Lancelot and still be loved for it was the most tender friendship Merlin had known. What would it be like, Merlin wondered, if Gwaine truly saw him and knew him and didn't hate him, didn't flinch away - but instead also embraced that sight and knowledge like Lancelot had. If Arthur knew Merlin - truly, truly knew him - and did not desert him but instead stayed steadfast and sure. If those friendships deepened _because_ they knew him and because Merlin no longer had to hide. If Lancelot's tender friendship wasn't the only one that Merlin possessed so honestly and without any secrets or fear between them. Only love and trust.

"Oh," Merlin said in wondrous rapture at the possibility; and that possibility was the reason Lancelot had brought the topic up, had pushed for it so gently but so stubbornly. Lancelot's fingers upon the back of his neck were warm upon his skin and tangled underneath his neckerchief around around Gwaine's necklace, and Merlin reached up one hand to join them, twining their fingers together softly. "Thank you."

Lancelot didn't ask what Merlin was thanking him for; he knew.

Merlin never would stop being amazed by that. That Lancelot _knew_ and knew him and did not shy away but, instead, wound his affable warmth even more firmly against Merlin, sweet-tempered fingers tightening with care against his neck and fingers and upper bicep. His presence solid, warm, _true_.

* * *

Merlin had a suspicion that Arthur often gathered his favorite knights for the worst of the missions - but also for the easiest. For when he truly needed them and trusted no others to be beside him. And for when he wanted to go away for a few days with all of his friends under the guise of orders from the king, almost like a camping trip. This was one of those times that it felt suspiciously like they were off to go camping more than anything.

"So _what_ exactly are we doing again?" Merlin asked, one eyebrow raised in doubt as he very graciously did not add 'besides camping, that is.'

Arthur answered swiftly. "My father wants an artifact. The problem is: it belongs to the Druids."

"The Druids are rumored to be peaceful, Sire." Leon spoke up quietly and Merlin knew him to be thinking back to when they had saved him, that his honor demanded him to speak now in their defense. "Perhaps they won't be much of a problem?" Truly that was what Arthur was counting on, Merlin thought in amusement. Hence, the camping trip atmosphere.

"Surely not everyone who practices magic must be evil," Arthur said in agreement, and Merlin jolted, stunned at the words that had left Arthur Pendragon's mouth. There was similarly a surprised abeyance within the knights.

Gwaine eyed Merlin for a long moment, as if the mention of magic might cause him to shy away - which it might but not for the reason Gwaine or Arthur thought. When no visible signs of distress surfaced, Gwaine nodded. "Surely not," He agreed easily.

Arthur paused, as if taken off guard. He frowned, looked thoughtful, and then nodded decisively. "You see that, Merlin?" Arthur asked, deliberately casual. "There's no need for you to be worried."

"I'm not worried!" He protested. And he hadn't been! Surprised that Arthur was verbalizing a support of magic in front of his knights - a minor support maybe but a verbal support nonetheless? Absolutely. But him worried? Not even close!

"The Druids will cause us no harm." Arthur continued as if Merlin hadn't even spoken.

Gwaine placed a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder, as if attempting to bolster his spirits at the mention of their upcoming arrival into a camp of magic users. This was probably Merlin's own fault for pretending to be afraid of magic but he still, for a moment, resented his two friends that sought to soothe him but only ended up embarrassing him instead.

"Besides," Arthur said, eyes piercing as he turned in his saddle. "You are wearing the necklace Gwaine gave you, aren't you?"

Merlin blinked and automatically reached for it with one hand, holding onto it where it lay underneath his neckerchief.

Arthur nodded knowingly, that having been all the confirmation Arthur had needed. He turned forward once more.

"Arthur knows about the necklace?" Gwaine asked quietly, looking what Merlin thought to be contemplative.

Merlin shrugged. "Yeah, he noticed it right away. Well not _right_ away exactly - but right away, you know?"

"Yes," Gwaine said, and he seemed to be watching Merlin's face intently, "But it sounded like he _knows_ about it. That it's magic."

"Oh." Merlin clutched the necklace tighter. "I suppose he might? I told him you said it was lucky. And well..."

Gwaine smiled, looking quite pleased with himself and not at all surprised or worried. "Is that so?"

"It was an accident," Merlin smiled guiltily.

Gwaine shrugged. "No worries, mate. It's just - "

"Just?"

Gwaine raised his eyebrows and grinned. "It's just that Arthur seems _awfully_ comfortable with the idea of magic."

"He isn't!" Merlin protested immediately, trying to prevent Gwaine from confronting Arthur about Arthur's supposed 'magic.' But then he paused because... strangely, it did seem that way, didn't it?

Gwaine inclined his head, his eyes knowing. "Think about it. I think we've done a good job, haven't we?" Which was ludicrous. Gwaine and Merlin had not caused Arthur to be more comfortable around magic - they hadn't!

Gwaine whistled merrily for near half a hour until Arthur called for silence.

In the end, the Druids did no harm to them and they no harm to the Druids. And - what had been more likely to go wrong - Merlin's secret was left alone and remained a secret. No the Druids weren't the problem, nor was obtaining the artifact. The plan went as well as it possibly could have gone. No, in the end it was the _bandits_ that went wrong. Honestly, Merlin wasn't even surprised by that anymore because _of course_ it was bandits.

* * *

The knights had all been split up in the bandit attack. Arthur, Gwaine, and Merlin end up together because of course they did. Fate always laughed at Merlin but couldn't it at least also have given him Lancelot?

They had been, unsuccessfully, searching for the others when the snow came. 

"Damn." Arthur's quiet curse made it clear: due to the snow, shelter was more important than seeking out everyone, especially as it was already night.

"Arthur..." Merlin began but then paused, bit his lip as nothing came to mind that would comfort his friend.

"We'll find shelter." Arthur said, and all emotion had left him. "The others will do the same."

"Arthur - "

"Merlin," Gwaine placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "It's alright."

"But the others - "

"We're knights of Camelot; we've all been trained for this. They'll be fine. I promise." Seeing that he was unconvinced, he continued. "Besides, we'll continue on in the morning."

By the time they found a cave to stay in for the night, snow had gathered in their hair and upon their shoulders.

"We should start a fire," Merlin realized and belatedly thought that they should have picked up some branches while outside. However they were in the very mouth of the cave and it wouldn't take too long to scavenge some. "Should I go get some br - " Merlin cut himself off when he realized that Arthur had that air about him, the concentration he bore while silently hunting prey. "Arthur? What is it?"

"I think," Arthur said slowly and then bent to retrieve something from the ground, never taking his eyes off from the dark abyss that was the cave. "That perhaps the others found this cave before we did." In his hand he held a small piece of dried salted meat.

"That could be anyone's!" Merlin protested although it did look remarkably like the jerky Elyan and Percival both carried, pepper flakes spotted over it and all.

"Only one way to find out," Gwaine mused.

Merlin followed his gaze and eyed the darkness of the cave with weary disbelief. "Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me."

But they weren't. So Merlin sighed and then on they marched, into the darkness.

* * *

In front of them, hunched over the wet wood with flint in hand, Arthur resolutely kept trying to light it while he walked.

"Princess, that's not going to work." Gwaine pointed out with a roll of his eyes Merlin didn't have to see to know was there. "It's too damp." Merlin thought 'damp' was a severe understatement. The cavern's narrow river must have flooded over within these past few days, presumably caused by the rain that had preluded the snow they themselves had encountered. It made their boots _damp_ ; it made the stray piece of driftwood it had carried in positively _soaked_. Arthur had literally snatched it from the river's current. So it wasn't like the slightly wet rocks on the cave floor and their slightly wet boots as they, with difficulty, navigated said rocks and stray puddles from the lingering effects of where the river must have overflowed, not being able to see very much all the while. How Arthur had even noticed the piece of wood floating in the river's current was beyond Merlin. But the point was: the wood wasn't damp - it was positively useless for anything at all involving using it to light a fire. 

"I suppose so." Arthur said stiffly. "I suppose... we would need magical means to create fire. Don't you agree, Gwaine?"

Merlin tripped over a rock; it had nothing to do with the darkness or the slippery puddles around them or his squishy boots.

Gwaine steadied Merlin after a moment of flailing made clear he wasn't regaining his balance on his own. "Thanks," Merlin mumbled distractedly, trying to convince himself that Arthur hadn't meant what Merlin had thought he had. That it hadn't been a - a prompt by Arthur to do so. That it hadn't been him _endorsing_ the use of magic.

"I suppose so," Gwaine answered Arthur, voice ever so careful and very much unlike his normal cadence.

And, alright, it wasn't like they could see Arthur's face since Arthur was in front of them and due to it being so very, very dark that Merlin could barely see Gwaine beside him or Arthur in front of him. So maybe Merlin was misinterpretation this. Except with the way Gwaine had responded, it really didn't feel like he had. Still... Maybe Arthur hadn't actually been serious after all? Maybe it had just been a comment, no underlining meaning. A comment like that made by the _Crown Prince of Camelot._ Yup, even Merlin couldn't fool himself into believing that, even as he thought it. And Arthur kept up his attempt to light the fire by flint, despite having just said - well, having just said _that_. It was almost like... a charade. Like he was waiting for a magical means of fire to take over where flint couldn't succeed. As if waiting for Gwaine to do so. Gwaine who had no magic.

Arthur was perhaps deliberately not looking behind him, seemingly focused on his task as he walked. Beside Merlin, Gwaine likewise seemed very deliberately to not be looking forward at Arthur, his neck turned to stare at the blackness of the cave to their left instead of before them. As a result, no one was looking at Merlin or paying him much attention. Still...

Softly and quietly, Merlin breathed out the spell and marveled at his own stupidity and daring for going along with this.

The fire came alight.

"Right." Arthur's confidence clearly wavered in the face of actual magic being used and his voice cracked along with the embers. He cleared his throat. "Steady on then."

"He's not very subtle, is he?" Gwaine murmured to Merlin in disapproval as Arthur put his flint away, having finally stopped pretending to be fascinated by the scenery of the cave to the side of them despite now being the first time any of them could truly see it because of the torch's light, instead looking forward to Arthur with a frown.

Merlin merely shrugged in reply because if he used his voice, he thought it'd come out somewhat hysterical because Arthur had just asked _Gwaine_ to _do magic_ and so Merlin had done it because Gwaine couldn't actually do magic, but now Arthur would take that as confirmation that Gwaine _could_ do magic - and all the while Gwaine thought it to be _Arthur_ who was doing the magic when it was Merlin because Arthur also didn't have magic.

After that, Gwaine and Arthur both treated each other warily, figuratively circling the other like prey about to spook during a hunt. Like one wrong move - if they moved too suddenly - would send the other scampering away. Merlin felt like, in a hunting analogy, he was still himself - stumbling in the woods trying to keep up with the _idiots_ in charge while protecting them all the as he tried not to draw too much attention to himself. Because that was his life. Wonderful. Absolutely _wonderful_.

* * *

If Merlin had thought, even for a moment, that with Morgana's betrayal would come the loss of Arthur and Gwaine trying to shove their support at each other's 'magic' - well, he'd be severely wrong.

If anything, Morgana's betrayal seemed to devastate Arthur all the more for it, and sometimes he looked at Gwaine with such broken-hearted yearning like he was trying to reconcile that Gwaine 'had magic' and was not evil with how Morgana definitely had magic but definitely _was_ evil, like he desperately was wishing that Gwaine's loyalty would somehow absolve all of Morgana's treachery. Arthur never said anything about it aloud and quite obviously tried to keep it to himself - still, it broke Merlin's heart whenever he witnessed it happening.

Gwaine must have noticed the looks. But he too stayed silent on the matter. He only would clap his hand down upon Arthur's shoulder more often and more sturdily, like a physical reminder of their friendship would help to remove the burdens upon him.

* * *

"Can we go back to the castle now?" Merlin asked as Arthur aimed a bow towards a deer; Merlin's complaint alerted the deer and it moved just as Arthur had released the arrow, which missed.

Arthur hissed in annoyance. "Merlin, you idiot!" He stood and they walked over to collect the arrow. "You can complain all you like. We're not going back until I say so."

"You always take so long," Merlin muttered unhappily. "And we go hunting all the time. Surely you must be tired of it by now?"

"I haven't gone hunting in _ages!_ " Arthur pointed out. Which was... true, Merlin supposed. If 'ages' meant three weeks, that was. The hunting trips had become less frequent now that Arthur was king, but it was still a lot more than necessary in Merlin's opinion.

When they went out on hunting - no matter how big or small the hunting party - Merlin's job mostly consisted of just staying close to Arthur. Sometimes he was to fetch the pheasants or hares that Arthur managed to kill, but usually Arthur liked doing that himself. Arthur always claimed that Merlin was a nuisance but he never actually needed Merlin on these trips and yet he still invited Merlin, so _really_ what did Arthur expect of him? So really the only thing for Merlin to do during hunting trips was talk to Arthur and whoever wandered nearby them. And Merlin was utterly unsurprised to find Gwaine cozying up to Arthur yet again in attempts to further his whole 'make Arthur and Merlin comfortable with Arthur's magic' plan.

"It's a lovely day for it," Merlin said and gestured around them to the cold air and light snowfall sarcastically. "You know, I think all the animals are probably in hibernation."

Arthur half-heartedly shushed him.

"Mm maybe so." Gwaine mused, much more quietly than Merlin had been speaking, as the three of them walked together with careful, light footsteps. "You know, I do wonder how much easier it must be to hunt with magic." Which... was so far from what they had been talking about, honestly, why did Gwaine have to keep approaching the matter with absolutely no subtlety? Merlin knew he could be subtle - he'd seen it many, many times; why was Gwaine then so unsubtle about magic when that was something that should be extremely subtle when brought up? Well, Merlin knew why - it was Gwaine's way of showing Arthur that magic was okay and that they and Arthur needn't be uncomfortable about Arthur's 'magic' - but Merlin could still very much dislike that lack of subtlety.

Arthur paused and eyed him speculatively. "Yes, I suppose it would be easier, wouldn't it? But don't you think it'd take away from the thrill of the sport? From the challenge of it?"

"Ah," Gwaine nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"Well we won't be finding out, now, will we!" Merlin interrupted their conversation loudly because this was weird, this was too weird. And, horribly, he had the weirdest feeling that if left uninterrupted either Gwaine or Arthur would ask to other to demonstrate hunting via magic - which, obviously, would be a disaster.

"What part of 'be quiet' don't you understand?" Arthur bemoaned.

"What part of 'stop taking me on hunting trips if you want to catch anything' don't _you_ understand?" Merlin countered. "Besides I didn't actually scare away anything this time."

Arthur sighed. "That you know of! Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder how much easier it must be with magic to get Merlin to stop scaring away all the prey. I'd say how much easier it'd be to get Merlin to shut up - but I suppose even magic wouldn't be able to do _that_."

At that, Gwaine laughed heartily. Arthur, of course, didn't scold _him_ for the noise; that seemed to be something he reserved only for Merlin. Merlin pulled a face.

Elyan came upon them and all talks of magic, _thankfully_ , ceased because of the company as Elyan decided to hang around with them as well.

One day, Merlin thought glumly, all he was asking for was just one day of Gwaine and Arthur not being strange and chummy in regards to each others' 'magic'.

* * *

Oddly enough, the closer Gwaine and Arthur grew, the more guilty Merlin felt about lying to them. In the beginning it seemed so far fetched that either of them would ever confront the other about their supposed magic. Now? It seemed like only a matter of time. And that that time was quickly running out.

And maybe it was a little selfish of Merlin to only now start to worry about it seriously and to only now wonder if maybe Lancelot was right and if he should have told them that the other didn't have magic before now. In the beginning he stressed over it and panicked, sure - but even though he worried, the worry seemed far off and distant and like it wouldn't probably actually end up being a problem. Because he hadn't anticipated anything actually occurring from it. But now he was much less sure.

Merlin caught Gwaine's eye as they passed each other in a corridor and, for some reason, it was then that he wondered what would happen should Gwaine discover that Arthur didn't have magic. Should Arthur discover that Gwaine didn't have magic. What would happen?

Gwaine slowed, tilted his head, with a smile in place even as he asked, "Everything alright?" Sometimes Merlin forgot that behind his air of carefree laziness, that Gwaine was sharp and quick. He often chose to not voice his perceptiveness; it took Merlin off guard that Gwaine could tell something was wrong when so many others had seen him and not noticed.

"Everything's fine!" Merlin answered and winced at how high pitched his voice came out. Gwaine's eyebrows immediately shot up; kind of, Merlin thought miserably, like Gauis' did whenever Merlin was miserable at lying.

"Right," Gwaine said and some of that laziness fell away as he scrutinized Merlin's face, mouth pursed slightly downwards now. "I don't suppose you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Merlin beguiled uselessly as the knight didn't believe him.

However, Gwaine shrugged. "Alright," He said casually. As if his eyes weren't still tracking Merlin and scanning him for any signs visible that belayed his distress.

"Alright," Merlin repeated and nodded. Gwaine once again smiled, letting it be. And ridiculously, just as Gwaine had looked him over for a final time and was turning to go, Merlin blurted out, "Arthur doesn't have magic!"

Gwaine paused, turned back around. His eyes cast over the hallway and Merlin flushed; he hadn't even thought to check to see if it was empty, had just - just spoken. "Merlin," Gwaine said lowly, stepping closer, eyes still trailing over their environment as to not be caught unaware. "Let's talk about this somewhere else."

"Right, right, that - makes sense." He agreed and then quickly continued, "Except that I think maybe Lancelot is right and so I need to say something and, if I have to wait, I think I'll end up losing my nerve so now really is better than not and - "

"Merlin, what are you - "

"And it's not exactly _easy_ to say, you know, but I mean. I definitely have thought about it and I definitely am regretting this already but, hypothetically, I suppose maybe I shouldn't even say anything after all except I kind of told Lancelot I would and he'll look at me with his big brown eyes, and have you ever been looked at by him when he's disappointed? It's like a sad deer - a very sad deer! I can't do it! I don't want to see sad deer eyes, I want to see normal not-sad deer eyes! Happy deers, you know? Not likely when - what...? "

"Merlin." Gwaine interrupted firmly, finger smushed against Merlin's lips to stop his onslaught of words. "I won't know what's wrong until you actually tell me."

Merlin blinked. "Right," He said, lips moving against Gwaine's rather ineffective finger. Gwaine studied him for a moment, frowning, but removed his finger. "I know you've been trying to - to support Arthur." In the face of Gwaine's scrunched eyebrows as he waited for Merlin to get to the point, Merlin felt his will wavering. "And, um, I think it's awfully kind of you. But totally and completely unnecessary."

"Merlin, what are you saying?" Gwaine asked, and, oh, Merlin had been worried about Lancelot's sad deer eyes but here Gwaine was with disappointed slightly-less-deer-like eyes combined with an angry purse of his lips. "I'm not going to give up on Arthur."

"And that's great, really!" Merlin assured him. "Except it's not." Gwaine bristled, disappointment and confusion radiating off him. And so Merlin impulsively continued. Except this time with less words.

He held his palm upwards, the flame radiating above it all the evidence needed. Eyes locked upon that flame, Gwaine took in a sharp breath - he wasn't the only one.

A throat cleared loudly, and the both of them spun to see Leon, stone-faced, standing at the end of the hallway. Immediately, Gwaine took a step in front of Merlin - who extinguished the flame even though it was too late, far too late, and hid his hand behind his back - and Gwaine's hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword, as he used the bulk of his body to hide Merlin away from the other's sight and to put a physical barrier between them should the knight attack.

Merlin's heart pounded in his chest as he registered that not only did Gwaine now know - but Leon had also seen. What a _fool_ Merlin was; Arthur may have been onto something about that every time he called him a fool because, in this moment, that was the only descriptor that crossed his mind.

"Leon," Gwaine greeted casually albeit coldly. Acting almost as if the incident hadn't happened, as if he didn't stand braced in front of Merlin and with one palm on his sword and the other on Merlin's chest to keep him safely behind him, ready to fight and fight hard if need be.

Nonplussed, Leon's expression didn't change whatsoever. "Gwaine. Merlin."

Merlin couldn't bring himself to speak, even though he knew he should be trying to diffuse the situation.

"It isn't what it looked like," Gwaine's voice was just shy of threatening, just enough away from it to maintain that aloof air as a masquerade that nothing was happening but very clearly steel waiting underneath.

"Yes, I suppose you two are studying poetry together," Leon mused wryly, the disbelief clear in his tone. But, strangely, no anger. Nor any shouting for the guards either. Which meant that Merlin had time to fix this.

Despite the tension and his racing heart, Merlin let out a small laugh. "That's right," He agreed, trying to ease the standoff nervously as he stepped to Gwaine's side instead of remaining behind him. Gwaine's hand tried to pull him into the safety of his shadow, to keep shielding him with his body, but Merlin didn't want Gwaine to take the fall for him, didn't want two at the pyre when one could be there instead. He had time to convince Leon because Leon hadn't yet called for the guards or attacked; but if things turned for the worse, Merlin could claim, if need be, to even have enchanted Gwaine or something. There was time so long as Leon was standing there, eyes serious as he studied Merlin and Merlin studied him. There was time so long as Leon wasn't attacking. Merlin could fix this - _would_ fix this. He took another step, coming in front of Gwaine, and tried to come up with something to say, to come up with the words to ensure Leon didn't implicate Gwaine when all of this was Merlin's fault -

"I suppose I'll leave you to it," Leon said. And Merlin blinked once, blinked twice. Didn't quite compute.

"Huh?"

"Really?" Gwaine asked, clearly skeptical while Merlin was still mentally catching up. Because _what?_

Leon's smile was tight. "Although I do recommend carrying on somewhere else? Mayhaps somewhere not quite so public and more secluded?"

"Right," Gwaine agreed levelly, nodding, as Merlin's head swam. "Don't want any more interruptions to - poetry, did you say?"

Leon's cautious, polite smile twitched into something more genuine. "I did."

Gwaine laughed, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword but his body language was still tense. Ready for a fight. "Alright. Well, we'll be off then."

"Oh, certainly." Leon agreed, nodded his head in allowance.

Gwaine grabbed Merlin's arm. "Hey!" Merlin protested, haven been broken free from his thoughts of terrified 'what-now's and hastily formed plans to minimize the fallout upon being caught. Ignoring his outburst, Gwaine began to frog march him down the hallway, grip made of steel and utterly unyielding to Merlin's attempts to free himself from the indignity. "Gwaine!"

"Not here," Gwaine warned him and continued to bodily hoist him down hallway upon hallway. They received a very strange look from a serving girl but other than that, they made it to Gwaine's room without any interruption or danger.

Immediately when the door was shut and bolted behind them, Gwaine spun to face him releasing the grip upon him to cross his arms angrily over his impressive chest. "You let Arthur teach you magic?" Gwaine thundered. "What were you thinking? How long has this been going on? You're not the Crown Prince - Uther wouldn't have pardoned you if he had caught you at it - not like he would have with Arthur! How can you be so reckless? Just because Uther is gone doesn't mean the danger is! There are plenty of nobles - of servants even - who could have seen that and reported you! And Arthur's uncle as well is still here to accuse you! Think of the position Arthur would be in if his uncle accused you of sorcery! He can't very well say 'no, uncle, it's fine, I taught him myself.'"

And Merlin knew that he shouldn't - but he laughed.

"Merlin!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Merlin grinned. "But let me get this straight: you think _Arthur_ _taught me_ magic?"

Gwaine frowned and took a step back, as if assessing whether or not Merlin had lost his sanity and the distance would give him better clarity on that. "Merlin, you don't have to - I'll protect you. If Leon does draw forth any accusations, I'll protect you. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear it."

At Gwaine's solemn sincerity, the laughter died in Merlin's throat.

"It's going to be alright," Gwaine vowed. "I don't care who accuses you - I'll never let them have you, Merlin. You got that? _Never_."

"Gwaine," Merlin said softly, unbearably touched by the fierce devotion of his friend. Looking into brown vehemently protective eyes, it made the decision bearable despite the fear. Lancelot was right. And it was time - far beyond time. There was no doubt left within him; Gwaine wouldn't hate him. There was no way that he would, not after this. And, Merlin had suspected for a long time but could never before now fully bring himself to believe, not ever. Gwaine would never hate him, and that Merlin hesitated spoke more of his own fear than of disbelief in Gwaine. He should have realized that by now. Fear not necessarily of Gwaine's reaction - but of Gwaine knowing. It was habit by now - it was his life actually - to hide this close and keep it guarded, the worst of secrets. To keep every safe from this burden Merlin carried. Because it was true that Merlin had never told anyone because he wasn't supposed to tell his secret - it was also true that he never told anyone because then they'd be guilty as well for knowing the secret. It wasn't merely a matter of trust but also of protection.

Except, there wasn't a need. Merlin knew that. He trusted Gwaine and Gwaine had protected himself enough while carrying Arthur's secret of 'having magic.' So there wasn't a need to keep this from Gwaine.

And yet still was difficult to admit aloud, in the face of his dear friend. But he would. He made to say what he should have in the first place, from the very very beginning. "Arthur doesn't have any magic. He never has. It's me. It's always been me. I'm not Courage at all." He smiled self-depreciatingly. "I'm Magic, but I was too afraid to tell you."

"What?" Gwaine asked and looked like none of Merlin's words had registered in his brain.

"Gwaine," Merlin confessed softly, "Arthur's never had any magic. It's always been me. I just... couldn't tell you that."

"But you always look so afraid around magic - or, or even when people talk about magic." He sounded a bit confused but more disbelieving than anything.

"Gwaine, I live in Camelot and have magic. Of course I'm afraid when people talk about magic."

And oddly that seemed to be what finally convinced Gwaine that this was happening. "How long?" He asked softly.

"I've had magic my whole life."

Gwaine sighed and nodded, eyes sad. "Right. How many people know? About you, I mean."

"Besides you? Three."

"Three?" Gwaine gaped but then fixed Merlin with a stern look. "If one of them if Gaius, he doesn't count. And neither does Leon!"

Merlin recalculated. "One."

"One!" Gwaine turned away and covered his face with one hand. "Good God, Merlin, that's terrible. One! I can't imagine what that must be like. How lonely you must be! Merlin, how have you been doing this?"

Merlin swallowed. It was one thing to have heard Gwaine's support for Arthur's magic. It was another to see Gwaine overcome with emotion because he had realized how lonely it was to be a magic user in Camelot.

* * *

"Why are you pacing?" Lancelot asked as he was laying upon Merlin's bed and waiting for Merlin to begin talking about whatever he had called Lancelot there to talk about. Merlin paused, not having realized until that moment that he had indeed been pacing. "Well - "

"What's this all about?" Gwaine asked as he entered Merlin's room.

Lancelot sat up from Merlin's bad, surprised. "Merlin," Lancelot said simply, eyes never leaving Gwaine but clearly not addressing him. Because clearly he would have assumed that Merlin had wanted to talk about his magic - and Merlin did, Lancelot was right.

"Um, yes, right, first things first." Merlin scratched at behind his ear as Gwaine closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. "Lancelot, Gwaine knows."

Lancelot's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Wait, are we talking about what I think we're talking about?" Gwaine interjected. Merlin nodded. "So Lancelot already knew?" Gwaine asked, stunned. And then he seemed to recover, moved to humor to lighten the subtle tenseness in Merlin's entire being. "It's because he's prettier than me, isn't it?"

Lancelot's eyebrows shot up.

"No!" Merlin protested, but he could feel his ears turning red. It wasn't the reason - it wasn't! - but he knew that Gwaine would see that as a sign of confirmation.

"That may be a first." Lancelot mused, seemingly unaffected. "You admitting someone might be prettier than you."

Gwaine grinned and shrugged. "What can I say? I do _have_ eyes, you know."

Lancelot threw back his pretty head and laughed.

* * *

"So, really, what are we here to talk about?" Gwaine asked. "You were pretty vague about that."

"Mm," Merlin agreed. "Well, you see..."

"Merlin?" Lancelot prompted when Merlin broke off nervously.

"I'm, uh, I'm thinking about telling Arthur. About my magic, I mean."

"Oh."

"Right," Gwaine sighed. "Of course you are."

Merlin smiled sheepishly.

"What do you need us to do?" Lancelot asked, eyes serious and full of promise.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure." Merlin answered.

"This is what it's going to be like now, isn't it?" Gwaine realized. "Secret magic meetings and dealing with the Princess."

"Pretty much," Lancelot agreed.

"Oh just wait until the next magical beast terrorizes a village," Merlin told him. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Lovely," Gwaine said dryly.

"So... Arthur?" Lancelot reminded them. Merlin winced.

"Right. Arthur."

"Oh this is going to take a while," Gwaine realized as Merlin dithered. And so he walked over and sat next to Lancelot on Merlin's bed.

"Hey, it's my bed," Merlin frowned. "Make room for me to sit."

"You," Gwaine pointed a finger. "Merlin, only get a seat after we figure out what to do about Arthur."

Merlin looked to Lancelot in disbelief.

"You're the one who invited him," Lancelot reminded him - but also scooched over enough for Merlin to squeeze in.

"Terrible." Gwaine shook his head as Lancelot easily let Merlin sit down. "That was our only bargaining chip." Merlin lightly kicked Gwaine's thigh in retaliation. "Merlin you wound me."

Lancelot huffed out a breath, slightly amused.

And next to his two friends - his two friends that knew about his magic and accepted him - Merlin felt _safe_. He wanted that with Arthur as well, wanted it desperately.

It was that feeling of safety with them that prompted the idea. "I might have an idea." Merlin slowly said. And after he told them and they agreed to it, his friends stayed with him. Squished together on an uncomfortable mattress but more than comfortable with each other's warmth and safety.

* * *

"Arthur," Merlin tried to get the king's attention, who was seated at his desk going over papers and scrolls. Arthur ignored him in lieu of reading his reports. "Arthur."

"What's that, Merlin?" All of Merlin's bravery to confess about his magic to Arthur and Arthur barely gave him half his attention to do. It would be the perfect excuse to not get on with it. But Merlin needed to do this. And he would.

"Arthur, I need to talk to you."

Arthur glanced up for only a moment before resuming reading.

"Sire," Merlin said quietly and Arthur's head immediately snapped upwards and began to assess him differently with sharpened eyes. "Arthur, there's something I've been meaning to tell you." The focus upon him was terrifying but important.

"Well, get on with it, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said, and his tone was deliberate in how it sounded like nothing was wrong and that this was just another conversation between them, not something of importance when clearly Arthur suspected otherwise. He set the papers down on his desk and waited Merlin's reply, folding his hands atop his desk as if to show how patient he could be.

"Arthur," Merlin started but then paused. It was difficult. And he couldn't help the lump that formed in his throat, the fear and sadness that stole his words from him. He tried to think of Gwaine and Lancelot's presence outside, waiting in the hallway in case Merlin needed them, in case things went wrong and everything he feared to happen did end up happening. They were there. Because that was the plan they had settled on. Them being ready in case - in case, Merlin didn't like to think about what the in case detailed, what Arthur was capable of doing to sorcerers and traitors. But neither of them would be much use if Arthur ended up _hating_ him. What could they do then? Swords nor armor could be of help then, and above all that was what Merlin feared: Arthur's hatred. It wasn't the possible physical repercussions that he worried about - not like Gwaine did, Gwaine who was outside with one ear to the door and one hand on his sword, Merlin knew, ready to charge in should he suspect Merlin being in any danger - it was that moment when Arthur stared at him in disgust and renounced their friendship, _that_ was what Merlin dreaded most of all. Any physical wounds seemed pithy in comparison to that.

So Merlin couldn't bring himself to say anything. He stared at his friend, his king, his destiny, and the words never came.

Arthur was alert and still in a way that Merlin associated with him bracing for bad news but prepared to react to such news - or to carefully not react, if the situation called for it. His silent control, his stony features - they're all what Arthur wore while in the Council or in the battlefield. Strategically nonplussed and ready to do whatever needs to be done, gaze sharper than a blade and more still than a corpse. "Merlin," Arthur's voice was gentle. Too gentle. It took Merlin by surprise. "Merlin, what's wrong?"

Merlin blinked. "I don't know how to tell you," Merlin realized. He blinked again, and this time his eyelashes came away wet. 

"Words would be helpful," Arthur teased but then frowned immediately after he had spoken. "Merlin, what is it?"

"Do you ever think about the Fisher King?" Merlin blurted out. "And about how lonely he was?"

Arthur shook his head. "The Fisher King was long dead when we came upon him. He couldn't have been lonely. Merlin, is everything alright?"

"He still must have been lonely," Merlin argued even though he couldn't tell Arthur that the Fisher King had been alive only moments before Arthur had entered that room. "Being in that room, all alone, knowing he was going to die."

Arthur stood up, alarmed. "Merlin, what are you - " He stepped around the desk and raised one hand, as if to touch him.

"I think I'm lonely too," Merlin continued on, and Arthur paused. And then, gently, he let his hand come upon Merlin's shoulder like he had intended.

"I understand," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't think you do. But I want you to."

Arthur stared at him intently, mouth pursed as he contemplated Merlin before him and his words. "Alright. Then tell me."

Merlin bit his lip. "I'd be even lonelier if you hated me."

"I give you my word: I could never hate you," Arthur promised, frown deepening. And then tried for levity in attempts to assuage the heaviness upon them. "Honestly, Merlin, sometimes you say the stupidest things."

Merlin chuckled weakly. "Arthur..." He paused and Arthur waited for him. Merlin could not - rather, would not - put it off any further. "Arthur, I have magic."

Arthur, even as still as he had been, froze noticeably. Breath caught for one moment too long. His face fell in sadness, and Merlin looked away to the floor. "And this makes you lonely?" Arthur asked, voice ever so delicate and not the tone nor question Merlin had expected to hear. Merlin nodded, could not bear to speak any further. There was a pause - an unbearable pause in which Merlin squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to cry - as Arthur said nothing at all. "Well," Arthur sighed finally. "What about Gwaine?"

Confused, Merlin lifted his head.

"If you have - have magic," Arthur said and stumbled over the word like it was hard for him to say now that it was so unfamiliarly associated with Merlin, "And if Gwaine has magic, surely you can be less lonely?"

"That's another thing I should tell you." Merlin winced. It wasn't as bad as telling Athur he had magic - not even close! - but he still didn't want to reveal yet another thing Arthur believed to be true was false. "Gwaine doesn't actually have any magic."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in shock and then fell deeply with confusion. "What? No, of course he does. Merlin, it's alright. I know you're afraid of magic, but - Gwaine can help you."

"Arthur..." Merlin said but hesitated at what to say. "Gwaine _really_ doesn't have any magic."

Arthur opened his mouth and then paused. "He doesn't have any magic?" He asked, and although he didn't sound convinced, he didn't sound as vehemently against the idea either. Merlin shook his head. Arthur was silent, for longer than he had upon hearing Merlin confess to having magic; Merlin couldn't even begin to parse what he was thinking or what he would say next or how irreparable their friendship would be. "Why the _hell_ didn't he say something then?" Arthur burst out, sounding incredulous.

It was the first time in the conversation that Arthur had raised his voice - and this was exactly not at all like Merlin had envisioned this to go.

"I cannot _believe_ him!" Arthur ranted, retracting his hand from Merlin to throw it angrily in the air. "What the hell! All those times we discussed his magic and he - what? Just went along with it? Thought it amusing? The _nerve_ of him! He could have just damn well said instead of playing me for a fool!"

"Arthur - "

"And acting like he did! How many conversations did we have about his magic? I've lost count! And he just went along with it! _Unbelievable!_ I'm going to throw him in the dungeons indefinitely, penalty of disrespecting his king. I cannot - "

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled and Arthur stopped pacing long enough to glare at him. "See, that's another thing I should tell you. Gwaine was under the impression that, maybe, perhaps, _you_ had magic. Except not perhaps. He definitely thought that."

" _What?_ " Arthur demanded, mouth flapping open for a moment afterwards like words were beyond him in his anger. "And what would that even matter if _he_ didn't have magic?"

Merlin smiled sheepishly. "He was trying to be supportive?"

Arthur stared at him for a long moment. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. All of his anger seemed to channel into annoyance, which was oddly reassuring to behold.

"Merlin. Perhaps you should explain things from the beginning." Arthur said without looking up.

"Alright." He paused. "But just so I'm clear? You're not going to stab me or banish me right?"

" _What?!_ " Arthur gaped and looked terribly offended. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?!"

"Right. Good. Hold on one second." Merlin walked over to the door and cracked it open. "It's alright!" He told Gwaine and Lancelot, who were waiting outside as per the plan in case Merlin needed them from anything from moral support to actual physical protection.

"Who the hell are you are even talking to?"

"Gwaine and Lancelot," Merlin answered and gestured to the cracked door that Arthur could not see them through.

"Why are - you know what? Have Gwaine come inside. We have _things_ to discuss."

Merlin paused. "Er, is it alright if Lancelot comes in too? He sort of already knows."

Arthur threw his hands in the air.

Merlin took that to mean 'yes.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title: "Someone New" by Hozier

**Author's Note:**

> When I came up with this idea, I thought it to be Strength, Wisdom, and Magic. Imagine my disappointment that it's actually Courage, not Wisdom; there goes so many of my 'Merlin calls Arthur an idiot' jokes.  
> story title: "Read My Mind" by The Killers  
> Sequel in the works. Subscribe to the series - not this story - if you're interested.


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